


1 in 73

by belle_reve



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Domestic Violence, Drama, Espionage, F/M, Khan Noonien Singh - Freeform, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Romance, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Star Trek Into Darkness, Time Travel, Violence, khan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle_reve/pseuds/belle_reve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five-year journey has begun, but shadows from the past fall heavily on the Enterprise crew when an abandoned foreign vessel is discovered- the only occupant, a lone cryotube containing strange markings unlike any coding from the Botany Bay.</p><p>All evidence and logic insists the infamous war criminal Khan Noonien Singh could not be involved- he was forced back into cryogenic slumber- but as Captain Kirk and Spock have learned before their departure, time has a strange way of weaving together those who are bound by invisible ties...</p><p>Can the Enterprise escape Khan’s shadow, or will the crew be torn apart by the misleading guide that comes from past wounds? </p><p>(Set 2-3 years after the events of STiD in the alternate timeline.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weaving Stage V: Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A woman born in the 20th century awakes in 2263. Among the confusion and panic of plunging into a new world, she worries for the history that has unraveled behind her- and why she's being treated like a criminal.

 

Bright light shot like lightning across my eyelids, dark blue and yellow blots tattooing the darkness.  
  
  
Hushed and rushed voices.

Beneath me, something cold and firm like metal.  
  
Heart pounding so loudly.

The feeling of cold ice piercing my temples.

Muscles whimpering with too much electricity.

  
I opened my eyes, but through my migraine aura I could only make out shadow people bending over me, away from me, moving to the side and whispering.

  
Trying to sit up, I felt some type of restraints tug at my wrists.

  
"...the fact that only _one_ would be..."

"...saw it with my _own_ _eyes_ , Helen! Are you calling me-"

"Listen, with no contact, we can't..."

  
"-Help-" I tried to shout to the shadows congregating around me but my voice was tight, coming out as weakly as a puff of smoke.

  
The strangers stopped talking immediately.

One of them turned to face me.

 

Apparently a puff of smoke was still enough of a sign to catch their attention.

  
"I'm contacting the admiral."

“You’re reaching above yourself, Commander. _I_ will...contact the admiral.”

"Jim! This is still _my_ patient, damn it!"

  
Things were growing clearer.

My eyes adjusted to the painful lights: some people left the room through automatic doors and a dark-haired man was looking at me with a strange expression.

  
"What-?" I tried again, when images slowly bobbed up to the rhythm of a blinding headache.

  
A grainy screen.

Flames, licking orange and red.

_  
Flames?_

  
"Still have that headache?" The strange man had moved closer to my bedside. He was dressed in a foreign uniform and reaching towards me with an instrument that looked like a small ear thermometer.

  
I jerked from his touch- and a static-like shock reminded me I was shackled.

  
"It's alright, I'm a doctor," He assured me, pointing to the logo on his uniform. The symbol meant nothing to me.

  
"What does _that_ do?" I asked, looking at the tool in his hand. I could still feel my voice box over-stretch just to speak.

  
"This? It's an injection to help the compound migraine. Your heart rate is pretty high so I’m giving you another one for your blood pressure and something for your sore throat." I felt myself tense as he pressed the instrument to my neck. There was a quick pop- something like a flick against my skin. "...And there you go."

  
His accent!

  
"You're American?" I eagerly asked.

  
"Born and bred," the doctor replied without looking up from his gadget.

  
"The south?"

  
He gave me a strange look of surprise, then smiled.

  
"And _you're_ from the west."

  
I nodded, looking down at the strange handcuffs that restrained me to the bed: bright blue light encircling my wrists, latched to some device on the sides of the bed.

  
"I'm Dr. McCoy. You’re safe, this is- like the surgery. Do you know where you are, Miss Averly?" He adjusted my bed so I was sitting up.

  
"How do you know that name?" I demanded angrily, though I was angrier at the tears that pricked my eyes. “From your _sick_ research? Or the people you’ve had here before me?"

  
"Easy there-" Dr. McCoy put a hand on my arm. “No one here wants to hurt you.”

  
I looked at him- scoffingly, at first.

But I saw a glimmer, a glimmer of something that was soft and hard at the same time.

 

_Kindness._

_Mercy._

_Gentleness ._

  
I focused on the feeling of his touch: _  
No-nonsense. Clever. Professional yet personal._

_Sensitive but guarded possible loss of spouse? Kind, firm bedside manner._

Trustworthy.

My mind seemed to blur like an old camera.

 _Kind - trustworthy_ _\- ?_ that didn’t sound right.

  
“ _Why_ am I handcuffed?" I asked, taking a rattling breath to reign in my emotions.

"Well, you have some pretty violent associates, Miss Averly."

  
"Don't call me that!" I spat, then, remembering his reading, I sighed and explained more gently, "My name is Wrenne."

  
Dr. McCoy gave me another strange look of surprise- he certainly did have a lot of those expressions. "You're not Sylene Averly?" He asked, leaning back in his seat.

  
"...that's my mother's name," I explained reluctantly. "...and I don’t have _anything_ to do with the Prometheus Project _or_ the Botany Bay Recovery- please, just listen to me-" I tried to lean in but the restraints wouldn’t let me- so I reached out with my emotions. "-it looks like you’re under the misconception that I’m valuable. _I’m not valuable ._ There's _no_ ransom coming. Unless you're low on books or medical staff, there's nothing I could even offer-" McCoy opened his mouth to speak but I wasn’t about to give him the chance- "Doctor, we're _countrymen_ .” Damn those stinging tears. “...we need to stick together."

"Bones..."

  
McCoy turned around, facing a man with dark-blond hair and soft eyes that flashed in a fascinating fashion. There was that uniform again- but this one, golden-colored. A white haired woman in the same outfit hurried to stand beside him.  

  
"If Subject 73 is conscious, we do _not_ -," She began, but the blond man interrupted her with a great deal of irritation- his eyes flicking from soft to fiery:

  
“ _Commander Litige_ _._ ”

  
She blushed, pursing her lips and clutching her hands behind her back.

  
"Dammit, Helen, this is _still my patient!_ ” McCoy snapped up from his chair, his authority falling into proper place as if it were his shadow.

“Bones,” The blond man sounded exasperated as he rubbed a thumb up the bridge of his nose.

 

“No, Jim! If _she_ thinks we're just sitting back and spinning yarns while the rest of the ship is running around like a chicken with its head cut off, then _she_ doesn’t have her head on straight!" McCoy stood across from the woman, Litige. "With all due respect to _your_ station, you _must observe mine_."

  
"...you're right, I’m sorry, Leonard," She sighed, running a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry, Captain...I'm just- exhausted, we're all...we're-."

  
"Shock and trauma," McCoy nodded, his anger reeling back politely as he allowed compassion’s tide to flood it over.

  
"No need to explain it to us, _we_ were on the ship with him,” the captain exchanged a glance with McCoy. “Commander, why don’t you go ahead and take leave for the rest of your shift. Get some sleep.”

 

“I’d make that an order,” the doctor added. “You’ve been running yourself ragged, Helen. Let me give you something to help you sleep…”

McCoy glanced back at me, and with a jolt I remembered I was a part of this scene. "Commander, Captain- this is Wrenne Averly."

Neither of them spoke- the commander or the captain. They just stared at me in that way you see someone without really seeing at all; as if I were some fish in a bowl.

Or a grotesque exhibit.

 

  
Anger, fear, anger, fear, confusion, anger, fear, ang- no use, I thought. I was too upset to distinguish my emotions from theirs, or from anyone else.

  
  
“Wrenne, this is Commander Litige, and this is the captain of our sh-” The instant McCoy mentioned her name, Litige turned on her heel and left. “For hell’s sake, Helen! Wait- let me get you that medication!”  
  
My stomach constricted with a sharp coldness as he left- this, the only man I remotely knew. The only tie to some type of humanity among my kidnappers. The tense silence between the captain and me only fed my panic.

  
“So...Sylene _isn’t_ your name.”

  
We were both prickled all over. That much I could read.

While I  _did_ feel so guarded, so tensed and afraid, separately, I felt a strange sense of wonder from running into two other Americans.

Such different emotional threads weaving together created a disturbingly detailed, surreal tint to the scene.

"No, it isn’t my name,” I replied tersely.

“Well you went to a lot of trouble to make us think otherwise.”  
“Maybe you should have just _asked_ me my name and I could’ve cleared the whole thing up for you,” I answered sarcastically.

“I thought I’d give it the personal touch and wait for you to wake up.”

“Personal touch, right, that’s great. Everyone _loves_ a personal touch to a kidnapping.”

“ _Kidnapping?_ ” The captain furrowed his brow, his boyish eyes lightening with surprise. “Did you...have a place in mind where you wanted to wake up?” An incredulous smile crept up his lips.

  
  
_Tongue-in-cheek._

_Confident._

_Over-confident._

 

“Don’t you trivialize this, you son of a bitch!” I snapped, jerking forward, feeling my cheeks flush with indignation and anxiety while the restraints seemed to further constrict my wrists as if they were preparing to digest my body whole. “You are _stealing_ a person’s life! The existence of one of your _own_ countrymen! Do you _understand_ that? Do you _really?_ ”

  
“Miss Averly, you are in no danger- I promise you that,” the captain leaned forward and while my instincts pushed me to interrupt, the bright shine of sincerity in his voice shocked me into silence. “You are on the USS Enterprise. I’m Captain James Kirk. Bones- our head medical officer,” He corrected himself. “...he estimates that you’ve been in suspended animation for over two hundred years. We ran into your vessel floating adrift and your cryotube was inside.”

I felt my breathing. I felt the walls constrict like the cuffs on my wrists. My heartbeat became

impossible to ignore- fluttering between palpitations and a cold stillness.

 

_It’s a trick._

 

“The date is 2263.20--”

 

 _No, please- !  
_ I hunched over, my psyche twisting into a form too large and painful for my body.

  
“--which makes it between 263 years and 283. It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact time since-”

“ _Stop! Stop it, stop!_ ” I heard my own voice and I was screaming. I was still hunched over. I saw my lap, dressed in some kind of scrubs made of a foreign material. I felt hot tears. I felt my cheeks fired with emotion.

I was repeating myself- “Stop,” over and over, my voice softening with each repetition. I couldn’t silence myself, I couldn’t change the words. I was rocking back and forth as much as the restraints would allow me.

Too fast.

Too fast.

 

It was all too fast.

  
  
I heard voices around me- my senses functioning in a detached mode, separate from my sense of self and emotion.

  
“Miss-,” The captain, holding back his concern, trying to hold to some calm and extend it to me. “Wrenne? Wrenne, it’s alright- _Wrenne_ , _look at me,_ look me in the eye- it’s alright, you’re going to be alright-.”

“Jim! Jim, what the hell-?” The doctor. He snapped quickly into a professional tone. I saw a hand placed on my knee. Masculine, bulging around the knuckles. Dark hair dotting his fingers.

“Wrenne. Wrenne, I want you to listen carefully to my- Spock-! Get out of here, we need less-!”

 

And then a tide rolled in, steadily and naturally like a straight line.

I could feel it, like gentle cold on a burn.

The vice loosened.

I straightened, looking to the source of relief as if it were as obvious as a candle in the dark.

A tall man- taller than the captain and the doctor.

Black hair and high, elegant cheekbones.

Pointed ears.

Eyes the firm calm of steel gray snow.

  
He reached out his hand, cupping mine in his. Carefully running his thumb down my palm to the pulse at my wrist, then back up to the center of my hand.

 

< _You are safe._ >

< No- no I’m not-! >

< _You are safe ._ >

< I never- I never thought they’d _do_ it, _never_ \- they could’ve killed me- why didn’t they just kill me! >

< _You are safe. Do not fight the current. It will take you to a gentle pond._ >

And only then I realized I was staring into his eyes- steel gray snow and ice and calm.

  
I felt that natural wilting- that relieving, natural wilting of a body relaxing into the embrace of rest.

 

As I sunk into the lapping rhythm of the stream,

I saw something glisten in his eyes-

Something I hadn’t noticed-

Something I wouldn’t have expected to be there, in those eyes of steel, solid snow:

  
a meteor shower

  
fiery and passionate,

but cropped small into the background.

A meteor shower.

A meteor shower upon a field of steel snow.

  
And then I felt my surroundings bob away, gently, naturally-  
 _guided._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {|Author’s Note|} 
> 
> I wanted to create in the Alternate Timeline a parallel to the events of "Space Seed" from TOS- running into an abandoned ship with cryo-frozen people inside, etc. 
> 
> I really researched the Stardate calculations because I normally mess it up, but I still couldn't get it right- thanks to BotanyCameos for teaching me! 
> 
> For this story's setting, I set the date to about 2263 (for this chapter, the date is specifically March 26th, 2263, and I'm making the Stardate 2263.206). I figured it would be a couple years before the ground-breaking Enterprise mission would start after STiD, which is set around 2259.
> 
> Kudos and comments are all so very much appreciated as well as constructive advice/messages!
> 
> Bises,
> 
> —-Emmie <3  
> 


	2. Weaving Stage VI: Reconnaissance & Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsure whether Wrenne is actually a threat, McCoy, Spock, and Kirk learn more through an official Federation Interrogation led by Commander Litige. 
> 
> Further details of the 21st century and Wrenne's life. 
> 
> It is revealed how Wrenne and Khan met. She describes some of her Augmented abilities.
> 
> Distrust spikes when the officers receive shocking information on Wrenne's involvement in the Eugenics Wars and the Augments in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [| No trigger warnings. Some mild language. |]

_**{ Weaving Stage VI: Reconnaissance & Interrogation }** _

 

"She was unaware."

 

Silence.

 

“...Are you _out of your Vulcan mind?_ For hell’s sake, Spock-! How could you cryogenically _freeze_ someone in the _21st century_ without them knowing? It’d be like- like a woman in the Stone Age getting a kidney transplant and being _‘unaware’_ of it-!”

 

“Spock, how can you be sure?”

 

“I calmed her mind and she called out to me."

 

“Oh for the love of-”

 

“Bones, come on.”

 

“I’m just-

 

“She must have a high level of intelligence and psychic ability, most likely an effect of augmentation.”

 

“So you’ve never met-?”

 

“I have _never_ met a human with such empathic sensitivity and mental articulation.”

 

I recognized Dr. McCoy’s voice:

“Her blood _is_ strange, similar to his-”

 

_His?_

 

“-obviously I can’t exactly compare them side by side, but her DNA has a considerable amount of flaws while his was.... _mechanical_ in its perfection, even so, we’re probably dealing with the same type of person...”

 

_Holy shit, they’re experimenting on me..._

 

“What were the dates again?”

 

Spock- “I estimate she was suspended between 2006.268 and 2012.60.”

 

_What the hell does that mean?_

  
“At least two and a half centuries!”

 

My brow twitched and I felt my breath catch in my chest.  
Telling my body to relax, to mimic sleep, seemed to only prompt my nerves to spur randomly.

But maybe they wouldn’t notice.

 

This is where I am. _This._

 

Despair was a cold clamping around my core.

 

Dizzy.

 

I’d been waiting to hear their plan- what they’re going to do with me.   
If they’re _not_ involved in the war or the project- why would they have me handcuffed? Why was I being treated like a criminal-?

 

_“At least two and a half centuries!”_

Unless history was speaking for me.

 

Crying from the rooftops a history unknown to me.

 

I opened my eyes despite the coiling urge to hide.

  
“Excuse me.”

 

Some hours had passed since I had last eavesdropped via feigning sleep- the captain was gone, so was the elven man and McCoy. Three men and one woman in red uniforms stood on either side of the door across from the my bed.

 

They stared at me with wide eyes- one crossed his arms defensively, flexing his biceps.

  
“Excuse me,” I repeated. “Can I- can I speak to…”

Who?

 

Who would you talk to?

 

The captain who had you handcuffed?

The doctor who was testing and examining your blood?

The elven man- the one you know the least about?

 

Place your bets.

 

But I couldn’t finish my request properly because I didn’t know the elf's name.

 

“Is there- someone I can speak to?” I tried again. “The doctor- McCoy?”

 

Second resort, not too bad...

 

The woman looked at me strangely then pulled out a black device that flipped open like a cell phone.

 

“Silvestri to the captain,” She spoke into it.

“Kirk here.” The strange phone sounded back.

“Subject 73 is awake and requesting parlay.”

 

“No- no, I just want to talk to someone-” I tried to explain but they ignored me, the captain answering quickly:

 

“I’m coming now. Kirk out.”

 

I stared at Silvestri, my heart sinking as I realized I might as well be going to the principal’s office.

 

Or waiting for Dad to come home from work to yell at you.

 

Shit.

 

I heard a sound and looked behind me to see another door open automatically and McCoy entered.

 

“Wrenne," He gave a nod and a smile. "Nice to see you up,” He sat down and fiddled with something on a table across the room. “How are you feeling?”

 

I didn’t know what to say so I kept quiet.

 

McCoy came to the bed- a soft mattress now, not the cold metal from earlier- (had they moved me?)

 

I set my jaw, biting down on my cheeks- nervous as he maneuvered with a gray, tubular instrument that gave a steady chirp.

 

I tensed as he brandished it over me.

 

“It’s alright,” He reassured me, that reliable, hardy face of his. “This just gives me your vitals- doesn’t even hurt.”

 

I still watched the instrument carefully as it swept up my torso, down my legs, across my temples.   

 

“No headache today,” He smiled. “...heart rate’s still- hmm…” He furrowed his brow. “Feeling a lot of anxiety, huh? I can give you something to help you feel calmer-.”

 

“No,” I responded so quickly that I heard my voice before it all registered in my head.

 

“Alright,” McCoy nodded, looking at a small tablet in his other hand. “Whatever’s comfortable for you- your heart rate isn’t _dangerously_ high, just rather rapid…”

 

“Doctor-,” My mouth needed to pace itself, my reactions couldn’t keep up- but I went on anyway: “I don’t want to see the captain. I want to see the other man-.”

 

Ironically on cue, the door swept aside and Kirk came in with the elven man by his side. I noticed their uniform colors were different- the captain still in gold and the taller man was in blue like McCoy. The doctor walked over to them.

 

“Jim, Spock, could you give me a minute here?”  

 

Kirk rubbed his lips together, stressed as he exchanged a look with Spock- a look with a message: _I know, I know- don’t say it, just don’t._

 

The captain lowered his voice but I could still hear him say:  

“ _Kobayashi Maru_ , alright? Litige and the admiral are breathing down my neck…” The captain turned around, his eyes shadowed with weight. Spock followed-

 

-he might as well have left a calm trail of softly fallen snow.

 

He was nearly impossible to read.

  
He was a blank slate like I had never encountered before- though I could sense that same, tranquil tide circling around him.

 

The automatic doors closed behind Kirk and Spock.

 

“You went through a lot yesterday, I understand,” McCoy looked at me with sympathy,  leaning a hand on the foot of the bed. “But there are some matters here that are too-- political. This is deep Federation-- _government_ territory and we can’t really take the time to go at the pace you need...The captain’s a good guy, Miss Averly. I’d put my _life_ in that man’s hands.”

 

I couldn’t get myself to look up from the sheets.

The question I didn't want to ask brandished around me, intruding my resolve.

So I gave in.

“...What year--What day--?” I managed to try but I didn’t have the energy. I put my head in my hands.

 

McCoy came to my side and put a comforting hand on my back.

“It’s 2263.20-”

“I have _no idea_ what that means!” I cried.

“-It’s not Gregorian,” He explained. “The calendar system has changed since you were last awake..." the doctor hesitated, typing something into the tablet he was holding. “The year is 2263.”

 

2263.

 

_2263._

 

I bit down on the sob swelling in my chest. I felt compassion throbbing from McCoy.   
He was a good man.

 

“...Miss Averly,” He continued delicately. “... _why_  were you frozen?"

 

I looked at McCoy, feeling the terrible prickles of nudity- that sensation of complete nakedness.The bristling followed as my mind reached out to cover my vulnerability.

 

The sob rose like flooding water and clutched my throat, my pride seemed to wrestle and growl inside me.

 

“I didn’t want this.” I managed, gripping the soft blanket in my hands. “Someone _stole my life!_  Propelled me into this--.”

I couldn’t go any further.

I stared straight ahead, focusing on a strange facet on the opposite wall.

The tears warming my eyes were oddly comforting.

 

“You were placed into stasis against your will?” McCoy asked, staring at me in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Who did this to you?”  

 

Flashes of metal and hard stares.

Test tubes and syringes-

-pain--

\--a screen with static--

\--but I could still see him, begging me-- _ordering_  them--

 

Black.

 

“I don’t know,” I finally responded. “I don’t remember.”

  
“It was 2006.268-,” McCoy stopped, translating for me: “-September or-- March of anywhere between 2006-2012...By your century’s system today’s date would be-.”

  

“No- no, please, I don’t want to- I can’t handle that right now.”

 

“Alright, that’s fine, that’s fine. You woke up yesterday, it’s in the afternoon now. Just keep taking deep breaths…” The doctor took the wand instrument and waved it along the back of my head to my temples. “...your heart rate is very high, I’m going to give you something for it…Have you always had such high levels of anxiety?”

 

“Kind of, I- I tended more towards depression, but there is a lot of- anxiety and mental illness in my family...”

 

“Look, Miss Averly-.”

 

“Wrenne,” I corrected.

 

“Wrenne,” McCoy nodded. “I’m going to be forward with you-.”

 

The automatic doors opened and Litige stepped in with a great amount of purpose, followed by the captain and Spock.

 

Litige-

_anger, anger, anger_

_fear_   
_hatred_   
_grief_

 

Kirk-

_irritation_

_extreme irritation, directed at Litige._  
 _Overstepping her station._  
 _I’m the captain of this ship, dammit_.  
  
Spock-   
nothing.   
Absolutely nothing.   
  
I was trying to figure him out- penetrate whatever shield or mask he must be using- when he looked at me and I realized I had been staring at him.

 

I quickly looked back down at the sheets before deciding I didn’t need to be embarrassed- I needed to focus on surviving- planning how to escape if these people turned out to be maniacs like the--

\--the who?

The people with-- the syringes and the hard stares from-- before--?

 

“Jim, Miss Averly is in a _very_  compromised mental condition, if we could-,” McCoy started, but the captain interrupted him before Litige could- I felt her over-eagerness, while Captain Kirk was trying to defuse some type of unstable situation that must be going on outside of this hospital place.

 

“I’m sorry, Bones, but the Admiral has contacted me. We need to cuff her again, start an official report and interrogation…”

 

I took a sharp breath as the panic shifted in- apparently it was a rather loud, sharp breath as suddenly everyone was looking at me.

 

“Don’t worry, Miss Averly, we have very stable procedures,” Spock spoke.

 

I was surprised how easily I answered him.

“What kind of procedures? What kind of organization is this?”

 

“An interplanetary federal republic known as the United Federation of Planets,” He replied without changing his calm expression.

 

“And you people-- you’re-- soldiers…?”

 

“No, we are officers of this starship, _Enterprise_.”

“A _military_  ship,” I looked at him suspiciously, feeling my body tense.

 

“Our mission is purely exploratory-,” Spock talked like he was reciting from a dictionary.

 

“Admiral Cromidian,” Litige spoke up, her chest seeming to puff with importance.  “-has directed that any conversing with Subject 73 must be kept on the official record and can’t defer from the cleared-.”

  
“Lieutenant, you forget yourself.”

 

A spark!

It was just a moment- a _split_  moment- but I felt it, I saw it in Spock’s eye when he interjected- a spark of anger!

 

_A meteor shower_

_upon a field of steel snow_.

 

“You’ve had plenty of rest now, Helen, if you don’t start acting like a Lieutenant-”

“-instead of a tantruming child-” McCoy added with agitation.

“-then I will have to penalize you,” Kirk finished, his authority radiating in a steady manner.

 

“ _With respect, Captain_ ,” Lieutenant Litige insisted. “the admiral appointed me to direct this initiative. When you are ready, we will conduct the interrogation in Conference A-7.”

 

_Forceful attempt at intimidation._

 

There was that spark in Spock again, but even more brief than before.

 

“Miss Averly?” Kirk turned to me.

 

Before I could say anything-

“We _don’t_  need Subject 73’s consent.”

 

“I am _not_  a ‘subject!’”

Somehow my anger came up and out of my mouth.

 

Litige first looked at me in shock, then fiery anger and hatred.

 

_History was speaking for me._

 

I didn’t do anything- I was forced _out_  of history- life, out of _my life--!_

 

“I think it is a reasonable, diplomatic gesture to refer to Miss Averly by her name,” Spock tilted his head slightly.

 

He- and Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy- were unbending in Litige’s attempt of intimidation.

 

“I agree,” Kirk nodded then, to me, “What do you prefer?”

 

“Wrenne,” I answered, then added: “...please.”

 

I noticed Litige clench her jaw.

  
“Conference room 7-A. Don’t transfer- _Wrenne_ \- without restraints and security detail.”

 

With that, the lieutenant left.

 

“Is she in a healthy enough condition for interrogation?” Spock asked the doctor, who was waving the beeping wand over me again.

 

McCoy glanced at me, almost apologectically.

“Spike in blood pressure but yes, she’s stable,” He sighed. “You feel alright for this, Wrenne? Do you want something for your anxiety?”

 

Fuck no, not with an “interrogation” at hand.

 

“No.” I responded firmly.

 

The men in red shirts stepped forward with a different set of blue, glowing handcuffs and another set of metal shackles.

 

_What the hell?!_

 

“What are you going to do to me?” I demanded, frightened as I leaned back against the bed, wishing I could vanish into the pillows.

 

Spock came forward and finally changed his disciplined stance, placing a hand on my arm,

“A Level 76.A Federation interrogation consists of thorough questioning and heavy, painless restraint.”

 

McCoy raised his eyebrows in surprise.

I’d only known the elven man for fifteen minutes, and even I knew this was out of character for him- but at the instant Spock’s hand met mine, his calm aura spread to me.

 

I stared at Spock- trying to decipher him as I felt a soothing wave slowly sweep up my body and through my mind.

 

I couldn’t get through.

Mask, shield, whatever it was- whatever kept this man away from my senses--

I could tell artificial barriers, and this wasn’t one of those...

 

It was natural.

 

The others didn’t seem to notice anything odd except Spock’s gesture.

 

 _Weird_ , Kirk shrugged at McCoy, _but it’s working_.

 

I could understand their non-verbal communication just as easily as I read emotion.

 

The captain ordered the security officers to give the handcuffs to Spock, who carefully secured them around my wrists and up my forearms.

 

The metal- or whatever material the shackles were made of- it was cool against my skin.

 

Disturbing.

 

But I found Spock’s discipline and professionalism reassuring though.

I was thinking more clearly, his touch was like magic-

Like nothing I had ever encountered before, not even from Augments.

 

“Are you human?” I asked him, looking up as he finished my shackles.

 

Spock looked at me briefly- _he_  was trying to read me too-

“No, I am Vulcan.”

“I thought you were an elf,” I thought aloud, feeling my cheeks grow red as I heard what I said.

 

McCoy snorted into rather enthusiastic laughter--directed at Spock.

 

“--I- mean a Tolkien thing, like Lord of the Rings--”

 

Not helping.

 

“--not the- little cookie elves-- the-- cool ones from...Tolkien...”

 

_NOT helping._

 

“-um-- sorry, I- uh- didn’t mean disrespect, I-,” I bit my lips tightly together, feeling myself arch and push against the calming spirit that had washed over me.

 

McCoy had laughed himself into a brief coughing fit. I noticed even the captain was trying to hide a smirk behind his hand.

 

Spock had merely raised an eyebrow at me.

“I am, what you would call a ‘humanoid’, from the planet Vulcan. I am...not an elf.”

 

There it was again--

A sparkle, a glint in his glance-

_Amused!_

 

Somewhere in him, he was amused.

 _Tabula rasa*_. Blank slate- or pre-written?

 

Spock trailed his hand down to mine and his touch again spread that tranquil feeling to me.

 

They told me to change and everyone left.

I was given clothes- a uniform like theirs with the same insignia, but black, austere, and sober looking. Two female security officers stared straight ahead at the opposite wall as I changed.

 

Spock, McCoy, and almost one dozen red shirted men escorted me to a type of elevator that glided too smoothly- I couldn’t even feel us moving.   
  


“...How do you do that?” I finally asked Spock, referring to the effect of his touch.

 

“...Vulcans can have certain telepathic abilities and sensitivities,” He didn’t even look my way, rather kept his disciplined stance: hands grasped behind his back, standing perfectly straight and staring ahead.

 

Still speaking somewhat like he was reciting from a dictionary or a teleprompter.

 

The elevator doors opened automatically, and Litige was waiting there in a light gray hallway.

 

 _Hate_ _hate hate hate._

 

Why? Why was her reading so furious and disturbing? So concentrated and directed at me?

 

Silently she joined the group, the captain stepping to the front.

They spoke in soft, hurried, and agitated voices.

 

Kirk was beginning to really dislike Litige and from what I had witnessed, I could not blame him.

 

McCoy was irritated by her presence too, and I could sense his own anxiety rising.

 

Spock was unreadable again- no sparks or glints.

 

I felt myself at a much lower level of nervousness than I expected- I suppose that is thanks to the elven-- _Vulcan_  magic...but then again, whenever I was too upset, I tended to shift into an “Observer” mode; the panic was too intense, the possible danger too great, so I would cut emotions and focus on the details around me.

 

I had only needed to do “Observer” mode twice before now.

 

The interrogation room had a long table with purple chairs. A security officer pressed a button and looked like he was typing something onto the table’s surface- in the middle of the table rose something else I couldn’t recognize-- they ended up attaching my cuffs and shackles to it so my arms were outstretched flat onto the table.

 

I could only move my fingers but it wasn’t painful.

 

McCoy and Spock sat down, Lieutenant Litige remained standing with the dozen or so security men.

 

The silence was incredibly uncomfortable. The doctor’s irritation had risen to a growing temper.

Spock- tabula rasa.

 

Most of the officers in red shirts were amazed or frightened.

_May not be strong enough-_

_Look at her, I can’t believe--_

 

“What am I being charged with?” I demanded, my voice coming out much weaker than I intended.

 

“You’re not-,” McCoy began, glancing angrily at Litige when she interrupted him:

“No speaking to Subject 73 until Captain Kirk is here and we begin an official record.”

 

Subject.

 

I closed my eyes tightly, the word triggering a horrible flash of shivers through my insides.

 

_“We’re all subjects here, Averly.” He had looked at me sadly and so quizzically- almost like it had rarely occurred to him that it could be otherwise._

_“Humans aren’t subjects-- you must have some sort of name other than a number! What was that I heard the other man call you?”_

_He hesitated._

_“Khan.”_

 

Kirk entered the room, sitting across from me at the table with Spock on his right and McCoy on his left. Litige was near the head of the table.

 

“This is Captain James T. Kirk of the starship _Enterprise NCC-1701_. Stardate 2263.208, time: 1433. Four days ago we encountered an un-named, damaged vessel where we found a woman in cryogenic stasis- we have estimated she has been frozen for over 200 years. See Captain’s Log stardate 2263.204 for more details.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, continuing,

“Under Admiral George Cromidian’s orders, during this report we will be referring to _'_ _John Harrison’_  as ‘Subject 0’ so to leave the interrogation uncompromised. Here with me…”

 

Each person answered for themselves:

  
“Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy.”

“Science Commander S'chn T'gai Spock.”

 

Sh-tiggy-- sk-tigay- what?

  
“Lieutenant Helen Tholaz zh Litige*.”

 

Tholaz?

 

“Standing by are nine security officers, all of the rank lieutenant commander or higher, also as  ordered by Admiral Cromidian. The woman we found aboard the damaged vessel on 2263.204, known as ‘Subject 73’ is under arrest by the United Federation of Planets and we are interrogating her by the Federation’s orders and authority, following Charter 345…” Kirk paused, drumming his fingers on the table. Eventually he looked to Spock, who finished for him:

“Charter 345-98H, section 26, Captain.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Spock, can’t remember those damn numbers sometimes. For diplomacy and by her request, we will be referring to Subject 73 by her name- would you give your name for the record, please?”

 

I looked around nervously, suddenly remembering I was a part of this scene and not an observer.

  
“Cerridwen Wrenne Averly,” I stuttered. Damn if I couldn’t keep from stuttering when I was flustered with any kind of emotion.

 

“Thank you...Cowa-Kerr--Kowiadwen.”

“K-eh-r-id-wehn,” I accidentally corrected, feeling my cheeks blush.

 

No one called me by my first name, I didn’t like that kind of intimacy with strangers or acquaintances let alone my captors.

 

“She requested we refer to her by her middle name, Wrenne,” Spock specified.

 

I glanced at him in surprise and appreciation.

 

“That’s right-- thanks, Spock, I forgot,” Kirk rubbed a hand over his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

 

“Admiral Cromidian placed me in charge of this particular initiative under the captain’s supervision,” Litige stated. “We are specifically interrogating Averly for any association she may have with Subject 0- _any_  subjects of the BB Hold, and the conditions under which she was placed in stasis.”

 

I never really expected her to call me the right name anyway.

 

“Averly, what is your birth date?” She asked without looking at me.

  
My mind was still so slow and hazy.

“April 7th, 1988.”

 

“What is the last date you can recall?”

 

Nothing came.

Nothing.

 

My ears started ringing, my limbs tingling with such anxiety.

 

I probed a little deeper into my memory, just trying to remember the last season I remembered--

 

_Pain._

 

\--the year--

 

_Intense pain._

“Captain, I want to remind you the mentally compromised state-,” McCoy began when I managed to blurt out-

 

“...winter,” it felt like a spurt of blood coming out of a wound. “The end of-- winter. We-- 2006 had ended-- it was 2007?”

 

“I want to remind the captain of Wrenne’s mentally compromised state,” the doctor stated more forcefully.

 

“Doctor, your own psychiatric report listed her as stable-.” Litige began.

 

“Dammit, she’s not crazy-! The girl woke up after _decades_  of stasis _f_ _our days ago,_ so yes, she is _emotionally_   _i.e. mentally compromised!_ ”

 

“Bones…” The captain gave McCoy a warning glance. “...I think Dr. McCoy _is_ right, we need to keep medical updates on Wrenne, Lieutenant, she did suffer cardiac arrest a few days ago.”

 

“What?!” I felt all the color drain from my face.

 

“Averly, while under arrest and during your interrogation you will _only_ speak when you are spoken to,” Litige glared at me.

 

“Captain,” Spock had folded his fingers carefully on the tabletop. “I propose that I relay the questions to Miss Averly as Lieutenant Litige is emotionally involved due to her personal history and so is the doctor, since Miss Averly is his patient.”

 

“Agreed. Go get whatever medical supplies you think are necessary, Bones- Dr. McCoy,” Kirk corrected himself. “Mr. Spock will continue the interrogation.”

 

McCoy left the room.

_Anger, agitation, concern_

 

“I have read the petitions for Wrenne’s interrogation and have an understanding of the questions that need to be addressed,” Spock explained before asking,

“Are you a genetically engineered human?”

 

I instantly stiffened.

 

Despite Spock’s usual calming affect on me, when he began questioning me- I remembered with a shock that I was basically on trial.

 

That these people had nearly let me die.

_“...cardiac arrest...”?_

 

I _didn’t_  know who they were. This Federation could be a dictatorship for all I knew. I had no idea who had won the war, after all- history and present were a blank.

 

I might as well be blind.

 

I needed to defend myself.

 

“No,” I replied.

 

“Were you raised in a medical or scientific facility?”  

 

“No!”

 

“Are you familiar with Augmented human beings, commonly referred to as ‘Augments?’”

 

“Of course,” I grimaced- that question was painful down to my roots. I began to wonder if my “interrogation” was being video recorded or just vocally recorded- or a lie-detector? If they had them in then, they’d have them now...

 

“Do you identify yourself as an ‘Augment?’”

 

“ _No."_

 

“Do you possess any new or enhanced abilities that natural humans do not?”

 

“No.”

A light behind me flared red, giving a whooping sound.

 

“You failed to answer the question truthfully. Do you have any abilities that natural humans do not have?” Spock repeated.

 

“...Yes.”

 

“What are those abilities?”

 

McCoy returned with a small satchel at his side.

 

“I am-,” I felt my heart tighten, beat so much faster. Nudity was sweeping over me. “I have-- high levels of empathic and psychic sensitivities. And my um- my IQ- and basic brain function is much higher than the...average...human…”

 

So naked, so exposed.

It was only intensifying with each moment and no amount of clothing or hiding could cover me. I was completely overwhelmed and couldn’t sense anything else. Like a flooding stench or blaring alarm.

 

“Can you read thoughts?” Spock continued, unphased though Litige was now sitting up straight in her chair, leaning over the table with intense eyes looking at me.

 

The captain regarded me with suspicion, the doctor with some type of fear stemming from a memory of his that I couldn’t reach.

 

“No.”

Again, the brief red light and the whoop sound.

“You have failed to answer the question truthfully. Can you read the thoughts of others?” He repeated.

 

“Kind of- I- I don’t hear them or something, I can’t sense or read them automatically like- um- like I can with-- emotions, but if I concentrate, I can brush...experience...certain powerful thoughts or memories,” I was staring at the gentle blue glow of my first set of restraints.

 

“Do you have intense physical strength that is unnatural for humans?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did you know a man named Khan Noonien Singh?”

 

I felt my eyes widen, my breaths coming more quickly.

 

“Yes.”

Damn tears stinging my eyes- but they were small, few, and light ones-

  
“Wrenne, try to breathe as evenly as possible,” McCoy advised, gently but professionally. “I’m going to take her vitals.”

 

He had put a wall up- I could still read him, but I could feel the wall- he was afraid, angry, and suspicious.

But still gentle to me.

 

He had gotten out of his seat with the beeping wand in hand, carefully gesturing it up and down my body.

 

“Wrenne’s heart rate and blood pressure are far too high. I’m giving an injection chlorothiafurozide, 250mg,” He took the ear-thermometer thing and gently pressed it against my neck.

 

“How do you know Khan Noonien Singh?”

 

I paused, trying to think quickly- I _had_  to defend myself-

 

“He took me prisoner when I illegally crossed the Hayagrivan border,” I replied.

 

Spock finally broke his usual facade, interest lighting in his gaze- but it was more complex than that-- I couldn’t read it, I couldn’t reach it-

Fascinating.

  
“Hayagrivan border? Where was that located?” He asked.

 

There- that horrible word-

“ _Was._ ”  
  
“Hayagriva is-- _was_ ,” I corrected myself. “a country that politically separated itself from India due to extreme-- differences. When the U.N.-- United- um- Nations and other authorities found the Hayagrivan government’s eugenic projects inhumane, attempts were made to-- stop them... So Hayagriva closed its borders, not letting anyone in or out. It was The 2nd Iron Curtain.”

 

Frustration burned in my chest- I could remember _this_  but not the last moments I was awake in the _right_  world-- _my_  world?

 

“And Singh took you prisoner when you were behind the border?” The lieutenant asked.  
She had softened considerably which made her easier to read.

_Pain._

Throbbing loss and pain-- she seemed to associate it with me?

 

“Why did you illegally cross the border?” Litige asked.

 

“I was an...activist...against eugenics-,” I closed my eyes to concentrate.

 

_Orange tinted fields._

_Sudden shock of dark, cold water._

_Desperate to catch a breath._

_Shine- glare of painful light-_

_Tall man in black_

_Heavy gun--_

_Breath, breath!_

_Water in my lungs-_

_Then a strong pull, pulling me back to the dock._

_I could breathe._

 

Suddenly I realized I was shaking, trembling.

Small black dots zoomed around my vision.

“--trying to...help someone- someone _out_  of Hayagriva-.”

 

“Were you-.” Spock started, but again that interjector, Litige, interrupted in a loud, demanding voice: _“Were you ever allies with Khan Noonien Singh!”_

 

Light-headed.

My chest hurt.

 

“Alright, that’s it, Jim--,” McCoy slammed a hand onto the table. “-- _Captain_ , I petition for a continuance _right now_ \- stop the record, the report- her blood pressure is 178 over 107, I’m taking her back to Sick Bay immediately- release these damn cuffs from the table before I have to restart her whole damn system!”

 

“Yes,” I answered Litige’s question, my head so foggy- everything detached- tears down my cheeks- my beloved, gone- “Khan is my husband.”

 

I felt another injection flick gently into my skin.

 

A security officer had been working to detach my restraints from the table when he stopped dead.

 

Then I noticed- despite my faint state- that the whole room had tightened like a taut rubber band.

 

 _“Singh is her husband!”_  Litige nearly shouted as if she had caught me red-handed.

_Hate, hate, hate, hate--_

So much stronger than before-

A rage-

 

“I’m- I’m taking her to Sick Bay,” McCoy avoided looking at me, his tone professional. “… she isn’t having a heart attack on my watch…”

 

“What-- why is that so horrible?” I cried, warm drops rolling down my cheeks. “What did I miss? What-- What did he do--?”

 

“Miss Averly, I want you to take _deep_  breaths now,” the doctor commanded, helping me onto a hovering stretcher. “in through the nose, out through the mouth. Lie down, keep breathing in,” He inhaled deeply to demonstrate. “and out.” He exhaled.

 

“...Bones.”

 

I turned my head, seeing Kirk’s face darken with-- something--

_anger anger anger_

\--but more than that-

 

“I’m going to give you a sedative, we need to slow down your heart rate as quickly as possible-”

Another injection.

“-this will may you sleepy-.”

 

“Bones,” the captain repeated. “After you’ve stabilized her…”

 

_I still remember his face was sharp in the moonlight._

_His gaze so powerful._

_And I was soaking wet, hacking, struggling to breathe._

_He had lowered his gun resignedly._

 

“...Leave.” He had said. “Leave or I will kill you.”

 

_I gathered myself,_

_ran, stumbling and bruised- weighed down by my damp clothes-_

_\--But another, even brighter light suddenly beamed down from a hellicopter--_

_Loud, booming voice-_  

 

“Stop. You have illegally entered this region. Surrender yourself now.”

_Then repeating in Hindi- then repeating in English-_

_And the order-- softer, a person nearby--_  

“435-7K, take her _now_.”

 

_His face-_

_sad- for a good, long moment he looked at me- sad-_

_And he was a bound prince, a warrior king-_

_And he had let me go._

_But after the order, he came upon me easily-_

_-so quickly-_

_-looked at me so sadly-_  

 

And I was taken prisoner.

 

Prisoner, just as I was now.

  
I stirred restless and distressed in the first stages of drugged sleep.

 

Khan-

My beloved-

 

 _You will never be a prisoner again.”_  

 

He _was_  dead- dead and gone- if not, if he could somehow rise from the grave-- my captors would have hell itself on their heels- hell itself for making me a prisoner for the second time.

 

**_{Continued in Chapter 3, Weaving Stage VII: Prisoner}_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tabula rasa: "blank slate" also referring to a philosophical concept of whether man is born a "blank slate" or born with certain characteristics.
> 
> *Tholaz- I decided to add some diversity since this takes place quite some time after First Contact. Litige herself is human, but her husband is Andorian, so her married name is Andorian too.
> 
> *I named the country Hayagriva after a Hindi mythical demon lord who crafts demons in his likeness to overthrow the gods.  
> \--------------------- 
> 
> I've had this complete story written out in detail in my mind- a lot of unclear references will be explained later. I tried to make Wrenne as a narrator somewhat mysterious and unreliable so that when I reveal specific surprises (like Khan being her husband) it will have more dramatic effect. Think you have Wrenne figured out? Think you know where the story is going? Hee hee, I'd like to fool you into believing you know where the story is going...but wait til the next chapter! 
> 
> (Dates for this chapter: ) Since it's an alternate timeline, I figured I could alter some events of the 21st century too...
> 
> I also really wanted to capture the fun banter and dynamic between McCoy, Kirk, and Spock like on TOS- their friendship is so amusing and fascinating!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, please leave kudos/comments, all are appreciated!! You can also check out more writing and extras on [my site](http://be-boheme.tumblr.com) =)
> 
> See you in Chapter 3 <3


	3. Weaving Stage VII: Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Spock shedding light on Wrenne Averly's past, the crew is able to learn more about Khan's life in the 20th century. Meanwhile Captain Kirk's body is changing drastically- and a certain blood transfusion may be the cause. [PG-13 language]

_**{ Weaving Stage VII: Prisoner }** _

Jim was looking into his (illegal) Romulan Ale rather than drinking it.

Leonard came into the abandoned conference room, attempting _un_ successfully to _un_ furrow his brow.

"You alright?" He asked Jim.

"The crew's in chaos, the ship is stalled..." Jim sighed shaking his head and putting the glass on the table beside him.

"And then there's this Khan Part Two business," Leonard added, sitting down and rubbing his eyes. "Global war criminial from the stone ages..."

For a moment neither of them spoke, but rather looked outside the porthole they faced, a window out onto space. Leonard finally gave voice to the statement that lingered between them.

"She may not be a criminal."

"I have to side with Spock on that one, Bones," Jim looked at him grimly. "What are the odds she isn't? How the fuck is that logical?"

"You taking _that_ instead of the sleep medication I gave you?" He nodded toward the ale.

"No," a coy smile curled Jim's lip. "I planned to take them both so I could enjoy this view as a drunk."

"Smart-ass..." Bones chuckled, taking the glass and swiftly downing the blue drink.

"That was _mine_."

"My patient was at risk so I had to remove the obstacle," Leonard joked.

Another wave of somberness crested.

"...I couldn't drink it," Jim admitted, turning back to the porthole. "I kept thinking..."

"...'I need my wits about me.'"

"Yes."

Silence lounged in the room with them, and the weight of their situation grew heavier.

"My turn," Kirk eventually spoke, sitting back at the table with Leonard. "What do you think of her?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you've dealt with her as a doctor, you dealt with Khan as a doctor. You saved her life, you were the first person she spoke to. There had to be time for an impression."

It was Bones' turn to sigh.  
"Look, Jim, you want me to come out and say it like a corn-fed-fool? I will: she's too sensitive. She's too obedient. It doesn't-- match."

"Khan obeyed at Q'ronos."

"Khan never _obeyed_ ," Leonard countered. "Khan _schemed_. Khan was patient. He allowed us to take him prisoner on that moon, you know that. He knew we had something he wanted, so he waited, he _schemed_ , and then he pounced. Khan obeyed like a tiger obeys a hunter- he was waiting to attack." He chewed on his tongue a moment before saying, "Look, you know I hate to admit these things, but we need to follow Spock's most _recent_ instinct on this. That girl-."

"She's not a girl, she's a full-grown woman!" Jim corrected irritably. "She's not some helpless Sleeping Beauty, she's the associate-- _the wife_ of a World War criminal dictator!"

Bones waved his hand impatiently, "I get it, Jim, but hear me out- she's got something screwy going on inside her brain and Spock's the only one who can interpret it. You need to get him to talk."

Almost on cue, the doors pulled into the doorframe and Spock entered the room.

"Ears burning?" Leonard smiled.

Spock gave Bones a significant look before he asked, "Did you tell him?"

Jim turned away from the window. "Tell me what?"

Leonard and Spock weren't done yet. The doctor focused on sending him a very negative expression before answering, "Your blood sample has changed."

"...Changed? That was more than a month ago."

"Well, it changed, dammit all if I can explain it yet, maybe my _mother_ can!" Leonard glowered again at Spock. "It's from that tox screen I did for your insomnia and the vivid dreaming...your white blood cell count is rising-."

"So I'm sick."

"-No. A large amount of white blood cells usually means an infection of some kind, but they aren't reacting like that. Your cells are all working extra efficiently, like they're at triple capacity and-."

"Khan's blood is changing me," Jim finished for him.

"Dammit, can I say one _fucking_ word!" Bones cried, smacking the tabletop in exasperation. "It isn't _changing_ you- you're so damn paranoid about that- but it may be changing the way your body _functions_. It's been over a year since the transfusion and there are no major medical warning signs."

"Except for the white blood cells."

"Dr. McCoy kept a sample of your blood before the transfusion of Khan's blood," Spock explained, "so he could examine an original sample against the new one."

"And you compared _both_ of those to my tox screen sample?" Jim looked at him grimly.

"Yes," Leonard nodded. "That's how I noticed the differences. It's nothing to get excited about, but I'd like to get some new blood from you so I can rule out anything else."

"Fine," Jim shuffled uncomfortably and threw out a distracting subject: "Spock, Bones thinks you're our key to unraveling Averly's case. You want to comment on that?"

This time McCoy gave the aggitated expression to Kirk.

"What- is that  _tattling?_ " Kirk snapped.

Spock wrinkled his brow and exchanged another significant look with the doctor. Jim recognized the expression and snorted irritably, looking away. He wasn't some fragile thing and neither was their prisoner. 

"My opinion this far," Spock answered. "is inconclusive."

Kirk rolled his eyes.

"Averly is obviously very intelligent with many talents and augmented abilities she is not telling us about."

"You think she's more than some psychic?" Leonard asked.

Spock nodded emphatically, "Absolutely."

"What did you read from her mind, Spock?" Jim questioned, leaning back in his seat. It was a weird question.

"Read?"

"You said a few days ago that her mind 'called' out to you," Leonard added.  
  
It was Spock's turn to shuffle uncomfortably, pursing his lips just the slightest bit as he lowered himself into a chair.   
"When she first woke, she started to panic," He described. "Like a person standing on unsteady ground, she reached out for stability and apparently found me-."

" _'Stable'_."

"Yes, it isn't uncommon for Vulcans to have a calming effect on those who also possess mental talents." He paused. "It is a grievous violation of privacy to share such glimpses into others' minds...however, considering the circumstance, we have no choice."

"Then get on with it!" Leonard quipped.

"I saw her apprehended at the Hayagrivan border, just as she said," Spock explained. "...apprehended by Khan himself and the government after his unsuccessful attempt to let her go."

"Khan tried to let Averly _go?_ "

"He would later say he had been ordered to shoot on site, however, when he had his chance, he did not take it."  
       
     Spock withheld certain details he had seen, personal information that wouldn't quite help their situation. Details such as Khan holding Averly in a daisy-ed, sunny meadow and telling her so instant was his love, his awe at her beauty that during that muddy, dark night he couldn't bring himself to shoot a nymph. Spock was sure such personal information would not help them, so he kept the romantic scene to himself- among other things.

"Averly was apprehended though, despite his efforts. Whoever she had been attempting to rescue was killed. She was taken to a high-security holding cell for 17 days. Khan later explained to her that Hayagrivan experts were deciding whether to kill her, hold her for ransom, or brain-wash her to join their ranks as, at the very least, a 'meat shield'."

"You saw all of this in a _moment?_ " Kirk was astonished.

"Memories are transferred to the brain more quickly than most electrical signals in the body," Spock spoke as if his ability was nothing more than turning on a light.   
  
"The specialists were, at first, unaware of her intelligence and attempted to befriend her as if she were a refugee from a starving country. She was in a small cell for 17 days before they offered her a room with better amenities under the guise of friendship, with actual motive being manipulation. For over two months, Averly was exposed to various 'mind control' methods, but she proved very resistant. She was then subject to much more violent methods of 'forced coersion'.."

"That  _bastard!_ " Leonard exclaimed.

"Khan was _not_ one of the specialists dealing in mind control," Spock contradicted. "Of course this account _is_  subjective, like all memories, but in Averly's mind, she discovered he was a member of an elite military squad working mostly in guerrilla warfare and espionage: a very high rank in the Hayagrivan government. She thought of them as 'the Hayagrivan KGB'. I researched the reference; the KGB were the secret police of the Soviet Union, infamous during the 20th century's 'Cold War' for its extreme stance on communism and the country's nuclear weapons."

"Like the C.I.A. from the same time, but _more_ corrupt," McCoy added with obvious prejudice.

"How the-- how did she escape?" Kirk asked.

Spock took a deep breath.

"Khan." He answered. "For weeks after her capture, he submitted inquiries and engaged in illegal activity to determine her condition. He continually petitioned to have her set in his custody. When Averly's unique skills were documented and proven, he used the information to further his attempts of removing her from the 'thought-control' programs. He told her such talents would be erased had she remained in 're-education', and that he-." Spock paused, omitting the glimmer of evidence he had seen in Wrenne's mind that indicated that Khan wanted to "rescue" her because he loved her, because he could not determine why she--

-

" _You glimmer, beloved. How could I ignore that?"_

 

-

"...he wanted to recruit her into his _'C.I.A.'"_ Spock finished. The "glimmer"-- whether Khan had been lying or not, it was Wrenne's own intimate memory that he did not think necessary to reveal.

"Did she change sides?"

"I do not know," Spock exhaled, almost masking his frustration. "That was all. I tried to examine her further, but she has _very_ advanced defense abilities when it comes to her mind."

"You couldn't break in again?" Jim asked, rising to order another drink from the simulator.

"No. I am quite sure I would need her to open her mind voluntarily."

Kirk sat back down rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  
"So...what does this tell us about her?" He thought aloud.

McCoy and Jim both looked to Spock, who sighed. "She _is-_ or must have _been-_ compassionate...she may still cling tightly to those morals and sensitivity, however, we can't ignore the fact that she underwent a large amount of mind alteration. Averly may not be who she used to be."

"I thought the brain-washing didn't work," Leonard commented.

"The _basic_ 'brain-washing' had no effect," He corrected. "She had a much longer period of fierce 'forced coersion'."

"How many synonyms for 'brain-washing' do you _know_?" Kirk chuckled.

Spock ignored him, "I could not perceive how long she was treated this way, but I did find that her mind lingers on the trauma. Her experiences very well could have turned her violent...and her mind centers around her affection for Khan- perhaps even her faith in him."

"Possibly violent...possibly loyal to Khan..." Jim shook his head, overwhelmed.

\--

**Weaving Stage II: Hunt**

 

He had come up on us like a tiger.

Silent, sudden.

We had a procedure set for if we were discovered. She abandoned it immediately though. I screamed after her but she had crumbled like wet paper.

Too much pressure.

He had appeared at the end of the aisle we were sifting through.

The plants tall like a cornfield, but with blossoms of fushia and bright orange- no type of organism I had ever seen. Eranja said they were condensed versions of opium and cocoa, creating an incredibly addictive hybrid of opiates and cocaine.

Like an idiot, I had taken a sample of the petals to bring home as proof of even more dangerous biological engineering.

I still thought I was going home...so naïve.

And so damn stupid.

Following a clap of thunder, he appeared- Glinting black and white stripes of shadow cast along the orange plants, like the eerie spectre of a tiger.  
  
His face was terrifying, baring all the darkness and death he symbolized with that giant weapon at his side.

So stupid. I was ridiculously stupid- challenging a gigantic, corrupt empire. There wasn't anyway I could've made a difference. 

Eranja slipped away as effortlessly as a serpent.

Or Kah.

“Eranja!” I screamed after her. “Procedure!”  
As if procedure had any value to the tiger who hunted us.

While I was a child, my mother always read me The Jungle Book. I’d never imagined Shere Khan as a coward, even though that is the “correct” interpretation. I saw him as a blazing flame of man’s lost ferality.A romantic savagery locked away in our minds. The wildness we’d left behind as a sacrifice for civilization.

And I saw that fire burning, burning bright in the orange fields that night.

It wasn’t romantic.  
It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.

His face seemed hollowed by shadow, madness, and spilt blood. In that moment, I crumbled just like Eranja- crumbled into the role of prey.

But I didn't forget procedure: I rolled into the aisles of vegetation on my left, stumbling and bumping helplessly down the nearby ravine. The rocks cracked like icy baseballs over my head and bones. I saw stars and lost all my breath.

Procedure followed the previous reconnaisance of the area:

 _Roll into the ravine and play dead among the rocks at the bed of the dried Satluj River, then await for the 1:15AM release of the Beas River aquaduct (used to water the fields), and allow the Beas' tide_ _to carry you across the Pakistani border where Pakistani officials will await your arrival._

Because the Satluj was supposed to be a  _dry_ ravine, a _dead_ river.

What we didn’t know was that the Hayagrivan border-patrol flooded sections of land if they detected suspicious activity.

Satluj River never _was_ dead.

I plunged into a full ravine, an overflowing river, dazed and breathles-  
-ice cold, muddy water.   
It stabbed into my lungs.

Even from under the water, I felt the thunder outside clap again.  
I half-expected to feel the grasp of the Shere Khan soldier.

I was sinking lower and lower. I was going to die in the water that should have carried me to safety.

So I kicked.

Spending the energy would kill me, but I kept kicking.

I broke the surface- shocked to greet the night air as I coughed up gritty water and swallowed the night air in ragged gasps that passed down my throat, hard as marbles.

I couldn’t even feel the burning-bright tiger watching me from the north side of the riverbank. 

I’d fallen to the ground, slumping against the earth as I hacked my lungs dry. Mud smeared against my cheeks as my body spasmed wildly with each cough. Stupid, but at some point I worried over ruining my clothes.

But I jerked into alertness at the sound of a gunshot.

Eranja.

I don’t know why I screamed. I barely knew her. But I felt my throat stretch and pull and scratch as I grieved through spontaneous, unreigned rage- clawing at the soft clay beneath me. 

It was futile- it was all so futile-!

When I opened my eyes, I realized the tiger soldier had been with me all along--

\--watching me?

The hollowness in his face was gone- that terrifying distortion, the wildness, and brutal violence was gone. Replaced with an odd shine, like trickles of dreary sunshine reflecting against snow clouds.

He raised his head but lowered his weapon.

“Leave,” He had ordered,  as if I were genuflect before him, begging for mercy. "Leave or I _will_ kill you.”

Did he think I was a Hayagrivan?

Without another thought, I scrambled up and away- my now barefeet slapping loudly against the dirt. I was soaking, muddying the ground and slipping with every step. I could still smell fresh mud. My long skirt, weighed down with water, was slumping off my hips and down to my thighs.

I didn't have the luxury of readjusting my clothing.

I was back in the orange fields of unknown, narcotic plants, burying myself in the rows of the field. I heard a sound blend in with the grumbling thunder, and too late I realized it was the sound of a helicopter.

Stunning, unnatural light exploded around me in a condemning exhibition.

_**"STOP. You have illegally entered this region. Surrender yourself now.”** _

I was flustered and sealed in.  
Frantically, I ran in a circle- reaching out for an imaginary escape-

The helicopter roared over me, repeating its message in Hindi, Chinese, Russian, Japanese…

There was no where to go. The helicopter might as well have lowered invisible walls- I could run, but they would follow with that damn light! I had _had_ my chance- my _miracle_ \- Shere Khan had let me go---

\---there were no more miracles left.

Off in the distance, a short, dark shadow of a man.

“435-7K, take her _now_.”

Before I turned around, Khan the tiger had me in his hands and I couldn’t even squirm. I tried to slump and shrink away, drop  my weight, stamp on his foot, kick him in the balls-- but he pressed his thumb into a muscle in my shoulder and I felt my body go limp.

The instant I felt his touch, he had already shackled me.  
There was a sharp bite- a shot? a dart?- and I fell immediately.

My life-

my life is over.

I never thought I'd die this way.

Everything around me vanished and I felt my body collapse.

\--

Jim and Wrenne jolted awake around the same time.

 

In his quarters, Kirk put his head in his hands.

 -

 

In the brig, Wrenne held herself tightly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

 -

 

This situation was getting the best of him. He needed to pump up his approach.

 -

 

She was _here_ , not in Hayagriva, she repeated the thought to herself. She felt the texture of the blanket over her legs, she felt her dry skin against her fingers.  
Here, _not_ Hayagriva.

- 

 

He wasn't this weak! Even after _The Vengeance_ 's crash into the Academy- even when he was in the hospital, he didn't have nightmares- let alone ones so vivid. The option of telling Bones floated into his head again, but he shook it out like water stuck in his ear.

 -

 

 _Not_ in Hayagriva, _not_ in Hayagriva-  
The jail was too much for her. She was going to crack.  
No, no, no, no, _no_.  
She'd survived Hayagriva. She'd survive this, despite the wall closing in around her-- siphoning out the oxygen---

Claustrophobia, claustrophobia, she reminded herself, This is just a symptom. This prison atmosphere was pulling her out of her body back to that stall of a cell in in that God-forsaken country.  
But this wasn't that cell, she knew that.  
 _Not_ in Hayagriva; _Here_ and _not_  in Hayagriva.  
At least _this_ cell was nice. As nice as a cell could be...

- 

 

" _Hi, Bones, I'm having scary dreams can you help me?"_ Jim shook his head, feeling humiliation over an imaginary scene. Spock and Bones were already waiting for the sign that he was nuts- that "Khan Part Two" would be too much, that he would break. He could tell from the way they looked at each other with a concerned, " _I told you so_ " or maybe even: " _Did you see that? He's crazy._ "

The captain lifted his head and looked down at his hands. He didn't _feel_ like a different person...  
  
He was _still_ James Tiberius Kirk. Just _James Tiberius Kirk under a great amount of stress._

He lied down again, repeating in his head: _James Tiberius Kirk, James Tiberius Kirk._

-

 

Leonard had never seen anything like it. There were extra fibers along each side of the double helix, all with accompanying pairs beyond any medical category-- and even _more_ seemed to be growing in Jim's DNA.

"We witheld vital information," Spock had a reprimanding tone in his voice as he gazed at the magnified viewer that broadcasted the image of the DNA strands.

"Well for hell's sake, Spock, you saw the mood he was in!" Bones grumbled, shuffling the blood samples back into an organized fashion. "The stress is getting to him."

"...or the new, developing neurons in his brain."

"You're right, Spock," Bones spoke sarcastically at first, "with Jim, we skipped sometruth! _Oh wait_ , there's still a hell of a lot that you haven't told _any_ of us either! I can tell there is _plenty_ of informatin _you_ are witholding _..._ " He snapped. "... _important_ information about Averly that you learned during your brief stroll in her noggin. Don't think for a _second_ that you've pulled the wool over _my_ eyes-- And I'm a doctor, not a therapist! Whatever's eating at Jim's mood will pass just as usual. Besides, can we even be sure his change in behavior is because of something extraordinary? The ship's stranded, the crew nearly mutinous...we're all in shitty moods. The only thing that'd prove the source of any shift in his personality would be a brain scan...you know Jim would take to that like a cat on a hot tin roof..."

"You _are_ a doctor, but you are also his friend."

" _We_ , Spock. _We_ are his friends. Anyway, you yourself didn't seem too eager to start blurting out the details about Jim," McCoy leaned his forehead against his hand.

Spock pondered on that:  
" _We are his friends."_

He found it oddly comforting.

"Doctor," Spock began again. "I believe you _did_ make the right decision...the captain seems rather unstable. Unless you are sure his life is in danger, we best not add more distress to a desperate situation."

Leonard knew that for Spock, it was the closest to a friendly pat on the back as he was going to get.

"Thanks, Pointy," He grumbled tiredly. "Go get some rest or meditation or whatever it is you do...I'll keep up the work... Hopefully, we're just making a mountain out of a mole hill..."

Spock watched McCoy for a moment before he turned and left the medical wing.  
  
He was not about to sleep.

-

 

"Commander!" The security officer acknowledged him with some surprise as Spock entered the brig. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Where is she?"

He didn't need to specify. The officer pointed her delicate, blue hand toward the proper cell.

"Commander Spock," She spoke behind him, rising from her station at the observation desk. "I'm sure you're aware that 73 isn't to be questioned outside an official-."

"-I am aware," He answered. "Officer Atch'axah, after what our crew has been through, I'm sure you have confidence that I will handle this prisoner as aptly as I handled John Harrison." Atch'axah nodded and went back to her desk. She typed onto the flat surface of her command board, hacking into the security camera so it would feed a harmless loop while Commander Spock put a creative spin on rules she didn't care for anyway.

"Averly," Spock called, his temper carefully masked in his voice.

She was sitting up on the bench, the blanket pulled high to her neck. She didn't look toward him.

"Wrenne," He remained determined. "It is time you told me about the injections- how the augmented blood changed you."

He saw her shiver.

"Why?" Wrenne asked in a ghost of a voice. Her sight was looking beyond her maximum security cell and into the past.

"A man's life is at stake," Spock answered, straightening his stance stubbornly. "And if you are the empath you claim to be, such high stakes will matter to you. This man is your only hope to be tried fairly. Now _tell me about the injections-_ the 'Augmented Conversion'. _Now_."

 -

 

Wrenne wondered why she wasn't crying.

Khan was long dead. She was all alone in a galaxy of a government, and treated like a criminal. But no tears since the interview. No tears with this alien interrogating her about the most painful and yet simultaneously wonderful period of her life. 

She shivered again and reached for the steel anchor in her chest- the stronghold that connected her to the fiery, warrioress she'd always wanted to be.

The man in danger...the captain. Wrenne could read that as easily as if it were vibrating from Spock's body.

" _Now, Wrenne,_ " He demanded more forcefully.

Did Spock have any idea of the severity of his question? What kind of door it would open?

Wrenne felt her heart tighten in panic just thinking about it.

 _Space, think of space,_ she urged _._

A lot of comfort came to her in this blank, austere cell when she pictured how she was actually shooting through space.

She wasn't on earth, she was in _space_.

 

"I'll tell you," She conceded, almost not recognizing her own voice. "...but _only_ you. And _I_ want some answers in return- otherwise, I won't tell you anything more."

Wrenne shivered again, pulling the blanket even more tightly around her as the realization re-occurred to her:

There was no where to go in space. No where but into darkness.

 

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage VIII: Nightmares }_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! 
> 
> What do you think of this new format (third-person, alternating perspectives)? 
> 
> I got a lot of inspiration from a great book in the crime/detective genre. I think writing the rest of the story this way will help build up tension and mystery around Khan's and Wrenne's backstory, leading to a satisfying climax-- especially for the mysterious goings-on of the ship and Kirk himself. 
> 
> Khan's role and actions in the story will escalate with each chapter- I want so badly to write nothing but Khan, Khan fluff, and Khan romance-- though that would be sacrificing the wonderful torture of tension! xD I may be keeping you in a little bit of darkness, but I'll reveal all the pieces- or maybe you'll figure it out before then...
> 
> But don't worry, I'm not going to let Khan overshadow Kirk, Spock, and McCoy!
> 
> (Khan romance is coming, though, I promise =3 A rather steamy scene is in the works- I'll post it as its own chapter for those who want to avoid sexual content.)
> 
> This chapter was really difficult for me- mostly because I kept coming to dead-ends when trying to use the first-person perspective like in the two previous chapters, but once I found the right format, it all flew together! 
> 
> The research on Indian geography, brain-washing, microbiology...hoooo, that was a lot of work too but worth it! 
> 
> (For any who don't know, "Shere Khan" and "Kah" are literary allusions to characters in Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book.)
> 
> Kudos and comments are SOOO appreciated! Thanks for being so patient! Rest assured, this story _won't_ be left unfinished- I couldn't quit even if I wanted to! 
> 
> Let me know if you have any thoughts/advice on this new format...i.e., is it too confusing? Too wordy? Or even: Am I capturing Kirk, McCoy, and Spock well enough? Should their dialogue be altered? Guess these are questions I'll need to ponder while I write chapter four!
> 
> For more of my works see my AO3 profile, [my writing page](http://be-boheme.tumblr.com/writing), or [my site](http://be-boheme.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to message me!
> 
> Bises,  
> \---Reve <33


	4. Weaving Stage VIII: Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock confronts Wrenne and learns some of the effects of "Augmented" human blood in a natural human's system while tempers on board the Enterprise reach a violent peak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: T 
> 
> Trigger warnings: disturbing images, mild violence, strong language.

****

**_{ Weaving Stage VIII: Nightmares }_ **

****

_"I can tell you're not the type of man to make that kind of mistake-," I started, glancing at the two men in the room._

 

_Khan gave me a forceful look like a hot sun's glare and I folded under it._

 

 _"I did not shoot because I_ thought _you were already dead," He answered, easily lifting my whole body by the arm and setting me back in the chair._

 

_"Order's coming," Noonien  murmured in Hindi._

 

_I wasn't going to let them know I could speak anything but English, so I pretended I didn't understand._

_"What was that?! And what are you doing with me-?" I couldn't stop talking, it was like I had gone insane. "Why did you take me from the jail- ? Who_ are _you_ -?! _"_

 

_"451-9N," sounded over the intercom (Hindi). "on our way to Intake."_

 

 _"_ I _am  no one and neither are you," Khan instructed (English). "If you want to survive, forget your name."_

_"But they must call you something--."  
_

_  
"You Americans don't know_ when _to shut up!" Noonien exclaimed (English), exasperated._

 

_I could read "EDUCATION INTAKE" (Hindi) on the screen as it lit up and started again._

 

_"System's back up, we're out of here." Noonien gave Khan a tug by the collar (Hindi). "Your fingerprints are all over this, khan*, now just pull a name out of your ass! Time's up-"_

_  
"435-7K," Khan answered me (English). He rose slowly, moving to his own rhythm, although perhaps a bit more drawn out just to irritate his companion. "If you ever again end up at the bottom of a river, you may repeat it- but _ only once _."_

 _  
"I_ said _'pull a name out of your ass', you bastard!" Noonien gave Khan  a loving smack over the head. "No, go ahead and save them trouble, put your neck in the guillotine yourself!"_

 

_Khan lingered for a sliver of a moment and then he was gone._

_\--_

 

I took in a deep breath and held it.

 _  
"I'll tell you, but_ _only_ _you. And_ _I_ _want some answers in return- otherwise, I won't tell you anything more."_

 _  
_My demand came out a lot more calmly than I expected.

 

Spock's eyebrow twitched, but that was all that changed his expression. 

He was silent for a moment and I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the bright, naked light that bathed the whole jail. 

 

 _Determined._ _  
_Anger, guilt, fear-_ _

 

"Wow," I finally exhaled, recognizing the emotions weren't mine, but the crew's.

  
  
"You are not entitled to make such demands," Spock finally answered. 

  
  
I felt the tears tear up my chest leaving long, deep, invisible gashes. 

  
 _"No_ ," I found myself chuckling dryly while the tears kept climbing out of my breast. "No, I'm  _not_ entitled, am I?" 

I stood up and stared at him- this stupid, sterile stranger- I focused all my anger on him, worked to  _glower_ at him like I'd never glared at anyone else before- 

"I'm just some _chick_ from the _stupid_  ages! Some index card that didn't get filed away properly! I'm _sorry_ for being such a  _fucking_ inconvenience! I'll go _stuff_ myself and stand in the _Smithsonian!_ "

  
  
I ignored the present fact that the elf-- _Vulcan--_ probably wouldn't understand my 21st century references.

I stepped up to the front of the cell but kept behind the yellow and red lines because I didn't know what the transparent wall was made of- or if it was wall at all-

  
"I lost my  _husband!_  I lost my  _world--_ I  _lost_ my  _life!_ " I meant to point at Spock but crying spasmed my muscles so instead I pointed at him with a crooked finger like some old Disney witch. "And _your_ government is charging me with some crime- I don't know _what_ is going on- and _your_ crew is going _batshit crazy_ up there," I gestured toward the ceiling as I started pacing in a circle. "-their emotions so loud I can't sleep, and I still don't know how the fuck I got here!"

I gripped my hair in my hands so I could feel the painful pull on my scalp.

"You're the _only_ one who's treated me like _any_ kind of human being," I tried to swallow the sobs that hiccupped out."...so I'm sorry if I thought _quid pro quo_ would be reasonable to ask from someone who knows what _this_ is like!"

  
  
I blew it- I'd started crying, and now I'd just be some "hysterical" woman or a "manipulative"-

 

"I apologize."

_  
What?_

I looked up to find Spock studying me carefully.

 

"You're correct," He nodded. "I have no reason to treat you with bias and I apologize if it seemed like I was."

 

I took a moment to hitch in my breathing, hold down the sobbing.

I pushed the tears off my face.

 

_-_

_"No, don't say 'It's okay' unless you mean it."_

_"Then what do I say?" I asked._

_Mam* had thought for a moment._

_"'Thank you'?" I suggested._

_"Yes, 'thank you'! Say 'thanks'."_

- 

 

"Than-thank you," I stuttered while I found the strength to reign myself in.

  
I can't believe he listened to me.  
My shivering breaths were refreshing, the cell a little less cramped.

  
"...You want to know about the- injections," I tangled my hand back into my hair. "What makes you think that the c-."

 

_< Yes, the captain- but as this is against usual protocol, please don't leave a trace back to him.> _

 

_< You really care about him, don't you?>_

 

_< He is my friend.>_

 

"I'm not as good at that," I was flushed from trying to interpret and send mental messages. "but I understand."

 

Khan and Noonien gave off the same emotional vibration as the captain and Spock.

_Warmth mixed with irritation and concern._

Classic friendship.

  
"If there are Augment Injections involved- um- _this person_ isn't flying the ship, is he?

 

Spock looked at me incredulously.

 

"Well I don't mean like an _airplane_ ," I felt my cheeks burn into a deeper red. "It's just- he shouldn't be driving- I mean _flying--."_

 

A golden spark in Spock's eye.

At least I was good at making him laugh. I'd be sure to point out something from _my_ world that _he_ didn't understand.

 

"Where is _this person_?" I asked.

 

"Is that really of any significance?"

 

" _Absolutely, "_ I nodded, closing my eyes.

Mam had taught me how to organize all the stimuli, all the readings, the vibrations from people.

 

I visualized dozens of cords, chains, and tethers hanging from different angles.

Many colors and textures.

I felt around- I couldn't feel much, it was as if I were wearing two pairs of gloves.

I guess I was rusty. (Understandable since much of my life was still draped in a fog.)

I managed to find a cord that gave off the same reading as the captain and I took it in my hands.

 

"...In his-."

 

"Sleeping," I thought aloud. "...in his room? That's good. How long ago was- um, _this person_ \- injected?"

 

"Over two years ago."

 

"Oh, well- if he hasn't gone nuts by now-," I stopped, noticing the flicker in Spock's usual calm vibrations. "-that's a colloquialism, sorry- I mean, if he hasn't exhibited _symptoms_ by now-."

 

"What are the symptoms?" Spock asked cautiously.

 

"For men?" I thought for a moment, reaching into my murky memory. "The first symptoms are insomnia and strange, vivid dreams. Eventually your body will adjust to a much lighter sleep schedule, but in the meantime, the body thinks it's dying. Paranoia, delusions, irritability- but they pass- though the men always gain some higher level of aggression or violence that does  _not_ seem to dissipate...but there _are_ more signs, worse ones...in extreme cases..."

 

"You know these facts from beyond your own experience?" Spock was surprised.

 

"You think I was the only one they tried to pump full of Augmented blood? I was held captive for two years, sir. I infiltrated an intelligence task force and got my hands on all the medical information I could."

 

Shit. I'd said way too much.

I noticed Spock had already carefully logged away the information.

   
"It is reassuring to find you are more easily accessing your memories," Spock observed, suspicion tingled under the cover of his peaceful aura.

 

I opened my mouth to speak but realized there was nothing to say. In spontaneous spurts of lucidity, I would think or comment on something from my life- not a memory I was unaware of, but rather one I hadn't been able to reach before-

Memories kept on a high shelf. All the while I was hopping and leaning and tossing my body to grab what I wanted, then just like _that-_

 _-_ it would teeter off the shelf and fall into my arms.

Hayagriva's Intelligence & Infiltration Task Force, where Khan had been the prince of his fellow warriors.

The task force- we had all called it _IIT._

  
  
"So Khan successfully extracted you from the...'re-education' program," Spock assumed.

"He saved my life," My tears seemed to come from nowhere but I rubbed my cheeks dry again. "...What was the quality of the injections? How many did- _this person_ \- receive?"

 

"Quality?"

 

"Some Augments are- better crafted than others," I managed, trying not to talk about them like they were things rather than people.  _People_ rather than  _subjects_. "...Depending on whose blood you are dealing with, the injections could cause more... _drastic_ changes or more...fatal...ones...but it also depends on how many injections of Augmented blood- _this person-_ received. How many?" 

 

Spock hesitated and I sensed a really dark memory cloud him.

"They were...less... _injections_ ," He managed, giving an uncomfortable cough. "...more of a- _transfusion..._ "

 

 "A whole  _transfusion?_ " I exclaimed in disbelief. "Have- have you learned _anything_ from my time?!"

 

"Previous experimentation had shown it to be fairly restorative-."

 

" _At first!"_ I specified, putting my head in my hands again, tugging on my hair. "It _always_ appears to be a magical healing potion at first, but then--! What _the fuck_ \--! Are you people completely _insane?_ What circumstance would make you so ambitious-."

 

"A matter of life and _death_ -," Spock's eyes were sharp like icicles.

 "Then you should have left him _dead!"_

 

Spock's reaction was so instant and passionate that I nearly lost my balance-

 

_Anger, rage, fury, agitation-_

Out of all emotions, I hated feeling others' anger the most: it was a terrifying sensation, like speeding down a steep hillside of traffic with no way to stop. All my life I'd worked on finding a way to steer the anger I felt from others, and I had never been successful- it just knocked me off my feet and into a panic attack.

 

Instead it was just me behind the wheel of a huge SUV careening down Mount Everest.  
That sickening feeling of falling and imminent destruction.

My stomach lurched in a threat of evacuation.

  
I guided myself down to the floor and sat staring off to the far wall.

  
-

_"No, annwyl*, process it- process what you're feeling, what you're receiving from others. Process it like a computer: observe, assess, and organize."_

-

  
Mam had always said I was more talented than she was, but Mam always underestimated her incredible ability to endure extreme, chaotic emotions and still _function_ rather than just-

 

"I'm going to throw up-," I gasped, glancing around the cell and finding no trash can or toilet. "Where- where do I-?"

 

No time, take your best option.

  
My eyes and mouth watered painfully before I managed to bend over a small, black compartment in the back of the cell to hack and gag, choke and cough until I thought I was going to pass out from lack of breath.

 

  
" _That_ is your drawer for personal effects," Spock spoke coolly. 

 

Between the globs of disturbingly-bright colored sick, I could see a hair brush, a small mirror, a new pair of socks, and a bottle of some kind of soap.

 

At least it wasn't some expensive piece of 23rd century technology that they'd want me to pay for- I didn't have any money.

 

There was another terrifying realization that made me feel even more naked.

I leaned over the drawer again for round two.

 

"The large button on your left labeled ' _Lavatory'_  would have been a better choice..." Spock turned from me. "...or the button marked ' _Refuse'._  Both fold out these amenities from your cell walls. Officer Atch'axah, would you take two Ondans out of the med kit for Miss Averly?" Spock requested.

 

I lied down on the floor, feeling the cool tile under my back.  
Tile? Whatever it was...

I slid the soiled drawer closed with my foot.

 

 

-  
 _Behind heavy gray doors, faces distorted and peeling like bloody, red wax.  
I could hear screams both distant and close by me all at once._

_The loud sounds of desperate fighting and tearing in the cells on either side of me._

_Bodies were bloating and bulging, then bursting into giant, sticky blobs of blood, blobs of bone, which landed on the ground and formed into huge, white spiders that limped, lopsidedly toward me._

_"_ _Jānama*, no, Jānama, shhh."_ _Khan was whispering to me in a soothing tone, rocking lightly back and forth._  
  
I woke screaming- all the more surreal because my body wasn't acting under my commands. I was screaming and hitting him as hard as I could, kicking and attacking him.  
  
But it had as much effect as a toddler banging his fists on your chest.  
At least that was a relief.  
  
" Jānama," Khan gripped me hard by the shoulders, pressing his fingers into my muscles to distract my senses."Nightmare, it was a nightmare." 

 

 _I was coiled tight like a spring or a wild animal._

 

 _"_ _It's alright, Jānama. I'm here."_

  
Too weak to speak, I leaned against him but my body wasn't willing to release my muscles, which were still convinced I was in "fight or flight".  
  
 _"How-how long does- how long can this last?" I managed in a shivering breath. "The- these symptoms of those fucking shots?"_

_Khan kissed the crown of my head and maneuvered us both back against the lumpy mattress._

 

 

_He never answered my question._

_-_

 

With the hell I had gone through due to the Augment injections- the madness, despair, and bloodshed I'd seen from others who'd been injected-

 

I had to marvel how these people would rather have their captain alive via the shots rather than peacefully dead.

 

Maybe they hadn't learned from history-

Maybe my time was now like the Dark Ages-

Mysterious and poorly recorded.

 

"A'dilei*," Officer Atch'axah beckoned to me. "Place these strips on your tongue; they will banish your sickness."

 

I liked Atch'axah. There was a kind but firm set in her soft, blue face. Her hair was long, periwinkle dreadlocks she often tangled in her fingers when she was bored or stressed.

 

I hadn't learned where she was from, why she called me "A'dilei", or how she understood me so well. 

She looked around my age, but since she was an alien, I guess she could be centuries old and I wouldn't have any idea.

 

From day to each day, Atch'axah was effortless camouflage which had, at first, made it difficult for me to trust her- but there was some type of creed she lived by- and spreading information, engaging in conversation- none of those were among the rules she chose as her lifestyle.

 

But aiding this military- _federation_ , whatever they were- aiding their cause was not just her job, it was her passion and her life.

I could feel that much burn off of her like a bright flame.

 

I guess that's why Spock chose to come have this chat with me while Atch'axah was on duty in the Brig- only her, no one else.

 

 "Medicine, A'dilei," Atch'axah called. 

 

I managed my way to the circular portal in the cell's door and took two plastic squares that looked like the wrappers for hand wipes at a BBQ restaurant.

 

There was barely a moment of me staring quizzically at the tiny packages before:

  
"Peel open," Atch'axah instructed, gesturing to show me. "Place blue strips upon your tongue and the nausea will be banished."

 

Her English wasn't quite right, but she still good at it.

 

  
"...Thank you..." Reluctantly, I put the medication in my mouth.

 

The strips were thinner than anything I had ever felt or _could_ feel.

 

Within a few seconds, they had dissolved on my tongue with practically no taste whatsoever.

 

 

"Is further medical assistance necessary?" Spock asked me.

 

  
Dammit, we'd taken a dozen steps backward-

 

His calm was laced with distance and chill. 

Now he was less likely to listen to me.

 

Atch'axah waited for a nod from Spock before returning to her station at the large, circular desk in the middle of the jail.

 

"I'm sorry-," I began. "-I didn't mean that I-I wished your captain were dead,  Mr. Spock, I just- the injections are horrific, it's hard to--"  
  
Getting cold...

 

"-hard to imagine _any_ circumstance-"

 

Colder, _very cold._

I paused for breath and let the words settle in my mind before I spoke.

  
"You did what you had to and I understand that," I finally managed. "You do what you have to for your friends- and your captain," I sat back on the floor.

 

_Getting warmer._

  
"I'd do the same thing for my friends and my-," I couldn't finish the sentence. Partially because I hated the reminder that my loved ones were gone.  
Partially because the emotions from the crew were getting too erratic.

 

_/Rage, rage, fury._

_Fear, fear, entitlement._

_"Get Singh off our ship! GET SINGH OFF OUR SHIP!"/_

I shook my head.

That had to be a crossed wire- memory mixing with the present-

 

"Your people are going crazy," I commented, biting my thumb tightly in distress.

  
There was that feeling again- SUV speeding down Mount Everest-

 

"It's really bad, they want me off the ship."

Outside of America, few people had ever referred to me by my married name.

 

The tensions on the ship continued to escalate--

 

_/"This isn't a choice-."  
"Kirk can't force her on us like this-." _

_"We can march his ass out of his quarters ourselves if we have to!"/_

 

"No, no, no, no, no," I took a sharp breath, bending my head into my lap as I rocked lightly.

 

Mam had always been so good at blocking out others' signals--

  
  
 _-_  
"Build a brick wall around yourself and imagine all the feelings bouncing off the wall."  
  
"What if I still feel people?" I had asked.  
   
"Use more mortar, more brick. For every reading that sneaks through your wall, you add another layer of brick."

-

  
 

"Wrenne?"

 

_Mortar, brick._

_Mortar, brick._

 

"Wrenne, are you alright?" Spock insisted.

 

"Something bad is going to happen," I shook hard like water affected by footsteps. "Your crew is freaking out. It's going to pop, this situation is going to pop just like a balloon--."

 

 _/"Not on_ our _ship!!"_

_"Drag her out of that fucking brig-!" /_

Mortar, brick.

Mortar, brick, mortar, brick-

_/"I won't kill him quickly..."_

This strain strummed a chord straight to my core- whoever this was-- their emotions were so genuine, so strong--

_"I won't kill him quickly, I meld him into building his own hell and pry his ribs open so he has to watch the blood pumping through his heart while he tries to lift this damn ship over his head-."/_

And Kirk's especially emotional nightmare was intensifying.

 

"The captain--!" I accidentally kicked against the cell's transparent front wall- no electrocution, just a ripple of stiff plastic. (How the hell does that work?)

"Tell me," Spock was watching me carefully.

 

Again, I was shocked to see him take me so seriously.

  
"Everyone-- they're hysterical- _-_ someone or some people want to-- hurt other-- people-- I don't think the captain is safe--." I gave my dark hair another harsh tug, running into a wave of emotions that would drown me for sure. " _I'm_ not safe, but-- someone wants to hurt the captain, someone-- someone is planning  _specifically_ and  _passionately_  to-- hurt the captain- probably-."

 

Spock flipped open what looked like a slim cell phone and spoke into it.  

 

My chest felt tight and the seconds were painful- all the brick and mortar I'd built might as well have been sinking into my sternum.

 

"Wrenne-," Spock began when he finished his call- but there was only so much stimuli I could process.

 

 

" _Go away!”_ I screamed, throwing my hands over my head.  “ _Go away_ and establish some  _order_ on your fucking ship!”

 

The usual panic and overwhelming emotion rose in my chest, digging its metal talons into my throat-

 

_Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop-_

 

_Mortar, brick, mortar, brick, mortar brick, mortar brick--!_

Spock placed his grasp inside the portal which closed tightly around his arm as he took my hand in his.

 

The towering tidal wave of knives and pins and sharp things slowly melted into warm liquid metal.

 _Harmless,_ warm, liquid metal.

 

I welcomed the calm, ran toward it eagerly, grasped it like a tether in a storm-

 

And happy memories brushed against me- memories I couldn't reach (still so high on that shelf) but ones that were familiar, hot, and comfortable- I couldn't reach most of those memories, but one _did_ manage to plop into my lap- 

That day in Palmyra, the meadow with the daisies- flowers Khan had never seen before- and I had felt his chest spasm and tickle with laughter- one of the final times I could forget our hands were stained with blood and war-

 

But the memory,  _my_ memory-- that day in Palmyra with the daisies and the loving whispers--

-the memory had fingerprints smudged all over it.

 

I snapped my eyes open and slapped Spock's hand away. 

 

Those new fingerprints on a memory I had barely recalled-

 

They  _weren't_  my own.

 

At some point in time, Spock had managed his way around my thoughts and memories to this most private piece of my life-- 

 

"You bastard- you  _bastard!_ " I yelled,  kicking his arm away- eventually my foot accidentally slammed down on his hand- the Brig immediately lit up with red flashing lights and a piercing siren.

 

Atch'axah had been watching us.

Her timing was impeccable.

 

The portal spat Spock's arm back out of the cell.

The portal locked itself shut.

 

 "That was my _private_ and  _treasured_ memory of my  _dead_  husband and you purloined it?! _"_ I shouted over the alarm, ignoring the security officers who were trailing in, closing around my cell. "Decided to just pop in and take a peek?! Did you think I wouldn't  _notice_  someone else had handled a scene from my life? I didn't fuck around with  _your_  head! -- And you might as well be an open book to me,  _Commander!_ " I lied.

 

I wasn't good at sending mental messages but for this, I made the effort:  
 _< It's just a matter of time before I decipher you.>_

"Back away from the force field, 73," A deep, military tone ordered me. "The force-field is now destabilized _and_ electrified. Do _not_ step forward. If you _do_ step forward, you  _will_ be electrocuted. Back away from the force-field and place your hands on the left wall, shoulder-width apart! _NOW!_ " 

 I didn't hate cops but I _was_ terrified of them. I told my body to scramble into the aforementioned  position but my limbs struggled sluggishly under the stress of the crew's emotions

 

With tensions already so taut on the ship, kicking their first commanding officer wouldn't exactly ease their paranoia...or soothe the shrieking emotions on board that ripped gashes deep inside me.

 

I didn't mean to catch his hand under my foot- I shouldn't have been kicking so violently- I shouldn't have gotten carried away, upset as I was-

Once I stood as they had instructed me, the security officers flooded around inside the cell, bobbing like blood drops in those red uniforms- looked like blood coming up from a wound. 

_**{ To be continued in Weaving Stage IX: Order }** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and Translation: 
> 
>  
> 
> \---"khan"/"kahn" is a title for a sovereign or military leader, which is why Noonien refers to him as "khan" rather than "Khan". The title is originally Mongol and subsequently Central Asian. The history of "khan"/"kahn" reaches from Asia to Turkey to Bulgaria (near Russia) to India and to the Ottoman Empire (i.e. Kubla Khan, Genghis Khan, etc). See [source](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khan_\(title\)) for more info. 
> 
> \---Mam is "Mama", "Mom" in colloquial Welsh.  
> \---"Annwyl" is Welsh for "dear" or "love" (endearment for a small child). Since Wrenne's first name is Welsh, I fixed some of the language into her early life.
> 
> \---"Jānama" is "beloved" in Hindi. My oldest impression of Khan came from him referring to his wife as his "beloved" in WoK. For some reason, that sparked my curiosity and fascination with his character- that such a savage, warrior of a man would use a term so gentle and specific. I would never create my own Khan without this "beloved" detail. 
> 
> \---"A'dilei" (pronounced oh-dill-lay) is Syng for "priestess". Syngs (pronounced suh-inn-yuhh) are an alien race of my own design who breath like trees- inhale carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen. Atch'axah's character developed unexpectedly and since it matched so well for the Syng culture, I put them both together. Syng culture cherishes empathic/psychic ability as a sacred connection to Paxis, The Great Unity (i.e. life force) of all living things. Syngs who are particularly sensitive to emotion are set aside as priestesses (females) or apprentices (males) to help their society preserve peace at all costs in order to eventually unite with Paxis, The Great Unity. I probably won't add anything more of Syngs or Syng culture, but well, there you go =)  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Cleaned up this chapter, revamped it- I looked over my old version of this chapter and it was REALLY sloppy, sorry about that- really appreciate the feedback, otherwise I don't know how I could've fixed it! I hope this is clearer- the emotions and 'thoughts' Wrenne reads from others are now in"/\" while flashbacks are in between hyphens. Please let me know if this format is confusing- I'll keep tweaking! 
> 
> Describing Wrenne's empathic experiences are derived from my own life. The "brick wall" advice was given to me by my mother when I was eight years old. I tried to use my PTSD experiences to help describe her traumas/nightmares (like the nightmare in this chapter). This is more than I like to have in common with my characters- one way or another, any author's characters will be somewhat like them but I always work to make this as minimal as possible. 
> 
> If the descriptions and metaphors (the ropes/chains/tethers, emotional "vibrations", the "brick" wall) are confusing, please comment and I'll work toward clearing them up =)
> 
> I'm afraid Khan seems too "soft" in this chapter...meh...well, you'll get to see his skull-crushing side in a little bit x)
> 
> This chapter is kind of slow, I'm sorry...things I got to explain and what not- but the next chapter is very action-oriented!
> 
> Merry Christmas to you and happy holidays!! Thanks so much for reading! The next two chapters should take about the same time as it did to get this one out, so not very long- I already have them written, they just need a lot of editing xD


	5. Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to the side-effects of being injected with Khan's blood, in Kirk's dreams the captain views moments of Khan's life in the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: Mature
> 
> Trigger warnings: sexual content, graphic violence, frightening/disturbing images, strong language.

_**** _

_**{ Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order }** _

_**Pt. 1, "First Names & Middle Names"** _

 

Joachim* and Khan walked purposefully down a hallway that was bright and lined with long windows, almost as if the IIT were defiantly bucking any attempts at secrecy. 

 

"-mostly Joan, Beth, Helen-- then Chavez and Lopez too, but I doubt they'll act on it," Joachim cracked his knuckles anxiously. 

 

"They're young and headstrong," Khan answered. "Cubs trying to assert their positions. We’ll keep batting them down, they'll fall into place as usual." 

 

Joachim nodded, pausing before he added tentatively, "But in my opinion, Joan and Helen are ticking time-bombs, khan*." 

 

Khan cursed passionately, "So fucking reckless- but it's only jitters...Once the Intake comes,  they'll move out of ' _reaction'_  and into _'action'_. The new order, the new 'normal', will help them settle down."

 

He thought for a moment, his expression a rippling reflection of his thought process. "It's these constant,  _blatant_  acts of individuality that could get them Gray Juiced*- Chavez and Lopez too..."

 

They rounded a corner and Khan grabbed Joachim by the shoulder, his lowered voice somber as he ordered, "Look in on Bouhler*, Keniclius*, and Dr. Singh- make sure  _no one_ is thinking of terminating our girls. Talk to Etta, she wants to comfort everyone, that will bring some peace to the young-  Stripes* and Gray-Juicing are very painful to witness in the beginning." 

Joachim acknowledged, giving a small salute as he walked ahead; he turned when he noticed Khan was lingering behind.  
 

"Aren't you coming?" He asked, rolling his shoulders in an attempting to shake off other worries. "After med check-ups, everyone will want to be briefed on the Intake, and then there's still the Georgia assignment." 

 

"Later," Khan dismissed him with his regal stance and a wave of his large hand. "I have more recon on our 73, this Intake...Just keep an eye on the girls and the twins." 

 

Joachim shuffled restlessly. "If you keep missing the med exams, they'll-." 

 

 _"I know what I am doing,_  Joachim," He asserted authoritatively. "Bouhler can come after me if he wants to, but I'm quite sure the twins have already torn out the battery of his motorized wheelchair." 

 

Joachim snickered- but as he turned away, he spared Khan a concerned glance from over his shoulder.

 

Khan waited for the hall door to hiss closed behind Joachim before he moved toward a small door. It was partially obstructed by a column  _and_  in one of the rare blind spots of the security cameras, so few people ever gave the closet a second thought. 

  
Except him, and one other. 

  
Inside, between two large water-heaters, there was barely room for two people.

 

Once the closet door was securely closed, Wrenne moved out of the shadows and threw her arms around his neck. Khan took her fragile frame in his arms, cupping the back of her head in his hand to bring her face close, so close to his for an eager kiss. 

Always a desperate meeting- satisfying once Khan finally felt her soft lips against the chapped skin of his own. He heard Wrenne's heart rate spike, her breath catch in her lungs as he fiercely pressed her mouth open with his tongue. So wet and warm. They were parched for each other. 

He inhaled, swallowed that incredible taste of woman- an indescribable scent, a taste of softness, sharpness and tartness like grass- 

Her hands raked through his hair, again, desperate; greedily raking her nails down the line of his jaw- the light pain of her scratches so pleasing Khan sighed and she gave a satisfied, aroused murmur. The light marks on his skin quickly healed and vanished. 

Wrenne trailed her fingers down to his chest where she sensually circled his nipples, nipping them, teasing them erect. 

 

Damn, she knew he loved that. 

 

_< Khan pressed her against the tingling barrel of the water-heater- he wanted their hips close, to grind his body against hers- he was so eager, he popped the buttons on her uniform, shoving his large hands down her breasts- teasing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger- teasing her  the way she had teased him._

_A gasp of surprise, a groan of unbridled arousal. His lips took her nipples and lightly rounded the hazel-colored circle with his teeth- a light, pleasing pain that rose Wrenne's back in an arch as he started to suckle._

_She crooked her clever fingers in his belt loops and undid his trousers. He pushed his hands down her jeans, popping open another button and pushing her pants below her hips- feeling the soft silk of her thighs against his bare skin- the hard pressure of his cock against- >_

"Easy--" Wrenne was breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed as she ran her hands up his neck. "I'm still not very good at sending images...and besides that, we're going to drive each other crazy."

 

"Your mental messages have gotten so much stronger," He nibbled her earlobe.

  
"It's easier to send visuals than words..." She couldn't help but giggle, though it wasn't long before Wrenne's expression grew darker. "But all mental messages ave gotten more simple since- since they started the injections."

Just the mention brought tears to her light gray eyes.

"I'm sorry," Wrenne shivered, putting her face in her hands.

 

Khan took her in his arms and frowned-

-her body was so cold against his. He could feel the sharp, unnatural bony angles in her wrists, her hands, see the harsh crooks along her cheeks bones.

 

"Oh, Shere," Wrenne gave a lonesome, dry sob. So much was communicated in those two words.

He hadn’t liked the nickname “Shere” when he had first heard it, but now that he was more accustomed to being called by a name rather than his code, he found it opened a door for intimacy to sweep in like a warm breeze.

And most intimacies were luxuries neither of them could afford. 

 

Wrenne was tall for a  _natural_  human, yet she still didn't even rise to the level of his heart. He dragged his lips along her chin, her cheeks, to where he could press his mouth against her ears and whisper: ""They're taking you, Wrenne. IIT will have you out of Re-Ed by the end of the week."

The ever-present fact- the necessity of secrecy never left him.

 

 Talk  _close_. Talk  _softly_.

 

  
"Those images  _already_  drove me insane," He referred to the erotic scene they had shared- if only in their minds. Khan buried his face in the crook of Wrenne’s neck, brushing his cheek along her skin as he ran his kisses along the delicate, curved line of her throat.

  
"Me too," She pursed her lips in a cheeky, pleased smile. "Shere- can't we just find a way-?"  
  
  
" _No_ ," Khan emphasized severely, placing a distance between their hips so resisting was more tolerable. "It is illegal for Augments to engage in intercourse unless-." 

  
  
"I know, I  _know,_ you've told me the laws- but how would  _they_ know? If we're careful, there can't be-." 

  
"Cerridwen, I would take you now," Khan placed his arms on either side of her, his voice seemed to take on an arousing, deep tone that vibrated with such passion that Wrenne felt her body vibrate pleasantly with every sound. "I'd do more than anything you could manage to send as a mental image. I'd make you mine,  _brand_  you mine here in this drab closet or in the largest open field in your American frontier." 

He looked her up and down with his tiger eyes blazing from behind his usual light irises; then backed away with a discouraged, frustrated expression. 

"There are frequent, random medical examinations- practically every body part and fiber checked- Hayagriva  _would_  manage to find the smallest strand of your DNA on me or vice versa-- We have our chance to be together now...I'll tell you- my brothers and sisters- we have a plan. Trust me when I say we won't be living here much longer- so we'll wait- otherwise, we cannot afford the luxury of sex."

But Khan still kept hold of her and the few intimacies they could manage, kissing her gently, tucking her face delicately against his shoulder- but placing a distance between their hips that was easier for them both to tolerate.

  
Damn the luxury, damn the cost they couldn't afford, that they both couldn't rise to the desire in their hearts and bodies-

But luxury comes from civilization, and Hayagriva was a nation of savage eyes. Even in a utility closet, their privacy- their lives- were under the Sword of Damocles. 

 

 

"They check you over _that_ carefully?" Wrenne was shocked. "-But-but we've kissed, we've held each other- how haven't they already suspected-?" Wrenne began but Khan took over.

  
"They don't check you the way they examine  _me_. I managed to combine chemicals into the IIT-grade hand soap which burn skin cells from my hands and lips-."

 

"Doesn't that hurt?" She gasped. 

 

"You've seen how I heal," He reprimanded irritably. "It burns for a moment and then it's gone. Finally, the laundry soap takes care of any  _dead_ skin cells from touch-."  
  
  
" _That_...is a strategy- you've really thought hard about this. You really _do_ have a plan in the works..."  
  
  
"Of course I do, I love you," He somehow said it with a matter-of-fact tone  _and_ his usual passion. 

It didn't exactly come out of no where, though the timing wasn't how movies or books had described.

But it was still  _perfect,_ even if Wrenne's reply was late.

 

She had wanted to imprint his words into her memory.

"I love you, Shere," She slipped her arms around his chest and nuzzled her face against his chest.

  
Khan grumbled something- still frustrated, still pouting as he did when his plans were complicated by the government.

 

  
"What?"

 

" _Khan_ ," He specified. 

 

" _You picked!_ You picked your name!" Wrenne nearly forgot to soften her voice as she jumped up and down excitedly- weak as she was, she managed one jump, but wobbled and fell the second time.

Khan noticed practically before she wobbled and caught her gently in his arms.

She was so unnaturally thin now that he worried it could be even easier for his grip to accidentally break one of her bones.

Her genuine, albeit unbridled, enthusiasm was infectious and as Wrenne peppered his cheeks with kisses, Khan chuckled and smiled, even spun her carefully in 3/4th of a circle which was all the space the little cupboard could make.

 

"--wait--," Wrenne paused and studied him. "--is that--? You're feeling  _bashful!_ Oh!" She whimpered happily.

  
  
"Talk  _closely_ , talk  _softly_ ," He reminded her. 

 

"You're  _bl_ _ushing,_ oh my god, that is so adorable!" She giggled, pinching his cheeks tenderly and teasingly. "I love how the red bridges over your nose too!"

 

Khan rubbed his nose a little self-consciously but mostly in an attempt to bring out another delicate, feminine coo of Wrenne's. 

 

"Rest assured, my name has nothing to do with that tiger of Kipling's-," Khan started with teasing agitation. 

 

"I know, I know, it's because Noonien and Hiyachem always call you that-." 

 

"Joachim," Khan corrected her. " _Hi-ah-kim-._ "

 

"Wait what was _that_ - that dark, sad feeling there? _"_

"Nothing," He lied, then re-strategizing, he added: "...Nothing I want to discuss now."

 

"...Okay," Wrenne learned not to argue since the length of their rendezvous were always uncertain.

 

 Talk  _close_. Talk  _softly- not a lot of time-_

 

"They had me in psych and 'ethic' exams all day and they don't seem happy- how can you be sure they'll transfer me at all?" She started to panic, her voice cracking. "I'm not a soldier, Sher-- _Khan_ ," Wrenne corrected herself. "They have testing that proves it, they must, and I can't hide my morals from _all_ their tests-- but I _can't_ survive where I am and I won't survive in IIT-!"

" _Stop it_ ," Khan took a moment to grip her arms tightly. "You _have_ survived and in IIT, you will _live_ more than you will _survive_." He spoke passionately in the tone that braided lines of soldiers behind him. A voice that wrapped the mind in reassurance. A voice that made her picture Khan holding the world in his hand.

 

"Of all the abilities we have, empathy and mental talents are _not_ among them," Khan explained. "Dr. Singh knows- and since escaping China by the skin of their teeth, Bouhler and the entire government know as well- if they had had access to your talents, that massacre could have been avoided. Our understanding and manipulation of emotion is more limited than anyone expected- _you_ are our missing gear- a specialist in an area where we are lacking. They _will_ transfer you if only because failure or weakness on any level is unacceptable."

 

"But even if IIT takes me-- I- I won’t be able to kill someone."

 

He took her chin.

"You  _can_." 

 

Wrenne shivered and he felt himself grow defensive- because there was that side of himself that seemed to revolt the more delicate side of her- the _civilized_ side.

 

"...but you won't have to," Khan lied.

  

_Persuade, persuade._

The need pulsed through his system-

_Persuade, persuade._

 

She was dying in that "education" bullshit. He could see the life and intellect draining from her face, more so each time they had their rendezvous. Wrenne's eyes were ringed with dark violet circles- her cheeks hallow, now her body so cold- the bones of her arms, chest, and neck protruded from her skin.

He had always worked to keep his people as far as possible from the Education block, despite Bouhler adjoining the building with IIT's just before Noonien's death.

  
 

- 

 _"What you think of as 'individuality' comes at a cost. Ignorance and education_ also _come at a cost._  This _," General Bouhler held up Noonien by his brown hair, gray matter* still matted into his scalp, a trickle of still moving from his ears. "…is the cost."_

 __  
The general paused to emphasize his point.  
  
" _Lives are the cost," He continued. "_ Order  _is the cost._ I  _am_ _protecting _the order here and if I must-" Bouhler cracked the neck of Noonien's corpse. "-snap some spines, so be it."__

_  
Khan held Helen tightly against him to muffle her exclamation when she heard the bones crack._

_There were 36 of his brothers and sisters in the room, but he could only hold one._  

 

 _"_ This was 451-9N _," Bouhler shouted, again holding up Noonien's head by the hair- though now the head dangled limply at a sickening angle._ _"I _f I hear anymore of this 'nicknaming', I will place_  _every one _of you on this table!"_  
  
He smacked the table's surface for effect.

_Once the company was excused, Khan  lingered behind, plummeted over the white-padded table where Noonien laid, and stabbed Bouhler in the throat with the ballpoint pen the general always hooked in his front pocket._

_Khan stabbed deep, dug deep into the larynx, grinding the inkwell-pen's sharp tip into Bouhler's trachea.  
 _

_As Khan walked calmly out of the room, leaving a bloody handprint on the white door, he_ _could hear the blood and air gurgles from the pen's broken shaft as the general struggled to breathe where he laid, spasming on the floor._

 

 _And that was when Khan chose his name_.

 

 

_Khan Noonien Singh._

_-_

 

It was a miracle that Wrenne’s brains hadn't scrambled already- but if she was left in the brain-washing program, her death would be absolute- mentally  _and_  physically; such genius, something so much  _better_  would be wasted and gone.

 

Those eyes too, the intensity of such a light gray shade- her long, black hair- soft, olive skin- soft breasts that carefully hugged over a fluttering, ladybird heart.

 

It would all be gone.

 

The lightning strength that resonated from her touch, that kept her standing when her body would not stand.

Such power and command of emotion.

Her strange, intriguing perspective from a land claiming to be free.

 

And that scream- the war cry she'd screeched into the night when she'd emerged from the Satluj River-  _there_ was the sign of a warrior he would gladly mold.

 

It was why he hadn't been able to kill her.

 

In that dark night of thunder and shadow, he'd seen lightning burst from a girl covered with mud and defeat.

A sudden force so striking, that he now realized he had loved her ever since.

 

Such power and will to survive, courage and dedication to feeling emotions rather than trying to outrun them-

 

To possess such superior understanding of the psyche-  
Even the geneticists hadn't been able to engineer such an ability in the race they had created. 

 

Invaluable. She was invaluable, and for more reasons than one.

 

Khan had calculated as such before he'd even perceived the beauty of her fragility, her delicate nature like no living thing he had encountered.  
  
  
The gentility of her shocked, horrified reaction to things as common as death, murder, and war.

She had never been forced to live in a freezing demented world where all things were dying and killing and scheming just to guarantee another day of survival. 

 

Yet now she had, and now she would continue to- but not without him beside her.

And not for much longer.

 

  
Wrenne shivered against him and Khan steadied her.

 

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about that grief I can read from-?" 

 

"No, not today," Khan rubbed his forehead in stress. 

"It was something t-terrible," Wrenne continued anyway, shaking from the intensity of his emotion. She would have gone on, but a yawn broke her last band of energy.

 

Khan kissed her forcefully again- felt her push against  _his_ push, as weak, exhausted, and starving as she was.

_There_ was where her war cries were- probably how they'd stayed alive in prison and then Re-Ed.

 

She could live in the savage order, he reassured himself. She  _had_ survived so far in the Ed building, and in IIT, living was rarely diminished to just surviving.   
At least it seemed so to him.

 

"I've made investments in you-,” Khan declared. “I’ve bribed and persuaded every faction- even strangers have invested in you- deals they  _cannot_ afford to back out of."

 

Especially since the head Hayagrivan military officer, General Bouhler, was now wheelchair-bound and had to speak from a device he held to jagged stitches along his throat.

 

_**{ Continued in Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt. 2 "Last Names" }** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and Translations:
> 
> \---*Joachim (Russian name), ah, Joachim... I always felt so sorry for the Joachim of WoK. Other than Khan himself, Joachim stuck out to me particularly more than the other semi-anonymous crew in WoK because Joachim dared to speak his mind and back-talk a man as complex, violent, and unpredictable as Khan. Because of this, I always imagined Khan and Joachim would be close friends and war buddies in their youth.
> 
> \---*"khan", like in the notes on chapter four, "khan" is an ancient (Middle-Eastern, Asian, Eastern European) military or sovereign title. Ex., Kubla Khan, Genghis Khan.
> 
> \---*"Gray Juiced", a colloquial term for a Hayagrivan form of torture and execution. See Khan's flashback to Noonien's death. Specifics will come as the story unfolds.
> 
> \---*"He thought for a moment, his expression a rippling reflection of his thought process." Ugh, I couldn't come up with a better description than this...Ricardo Montalbán and Benedict Cumberbatch both showed such great expressions for Khan- whether they were the expressions he wanted you to see (fake and real) or the ones that you'd accidentally see when he'd lower his guard. [(Example gif)](http://i325.photobucket.com/albums/k399/xBelle_Reve/Khan%20w.e.r.6.gif)
> 
> I'll work harder to come up with a better description....
> 
>  
> 
> \---*Bouhler, since this character is quite- well- evil, I named him after Philipp Bouhler (11 September 1899 – 19 May 1945) who was a senior Nazi Party official. Together with Karl Brandt, he developed the Nazis' early euthanasia program in an attempt to pursue creating a "master race". 
> 
> \---*Keniclius, as in Dr. Stavos Keniclius, a scientist who lived during the Eugenics Wars on Earth (original timeline), according to Star Trek canon. He worked to clone a perfect specimen to create a "master race". While he wasn't ever directly connected to Khan, I figured since this is an alternate timeline I could mix things up a bit.
> 
> \---*Stripes, by which I mean the old-fashioned lashings from a whip.
> 
> \---*Gray matter, i.e. brains.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Hm, I didn't mean for this chapter to come out so lovey-dovey...in the rough draft, I juxtaposed the more romantic scenes with the violent ones of Noonien's death. But I've worked over this final draft, and I think it's balanced enough- I actually meant to introduce Khan/Wrenne romantic scenes very early on in this fic, so I wanted to include some a.s.a.p. because sex/romance has an important place in the overall plot (even just the Hayagrivan plot) and I also have the dirty mind of any red-blooded female ^^;;; 
> 
> Khan and Wrenne's discussion on why they can't have sex while under Hayagriva's foot is purposefully muddled for this chapter and will be completely explained in the next chapter. 
> 
> This was my first time publiclly posting sexual/erotic writing and um, there is more to come (I mean this _is_ a Khan story, right? xD  
>  For the more extended/graphic sex scenes, I'll be sure to put them in a separate "mini chapter" so you can keep up with the story but skip the love-making if you want to =) 
> 
>  
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone!


	6. Weaving Stage IX: Order, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions on the Enterprise escalate to violence when confidential information is leaked. Meanwhile, a mysterious agitator continues to rouse the crew into a panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings. Some language.

 

****

**_{ Weaving Stage IX: Order }  
_ ** _Chapter Six, Pt.1_

_Warriors know secrecy does not come from the shadows._

_Successful secrecy comes from light-_   
_Pockets of light robed in the complacency of la vie quotidienne.*_

There _are the hiding places._

 _A bright corner that you pass every day-_  
 _What you see every day-_  
 _those are the_ truly _hidden enclaves._

There _breeds secrecy,_ there _breeds strategy._

_There was where he had been waiting._

_And there was where he now lingered-_   
  
_in the ordinary light_   
_of the ordinary pockets_   
_on the starship Enterprise._

_And now was the day-_   
_Finally the day-_   
_To stir the pot._   
  
_To stir the order askew and let the ship become their tomb._

_\--_

"Captain Kirk to conference room, '4C'. Captain Kirk to conference room '4C'."

  
Lieutenant Uhura's voice jolted Jim from his jostling slumber and dreams of strange images, strange people.

  
  
"Captain?" Uhura called from the comm on the clock on his bedside table. "Captain Kirk, come in. Captain Kirk-."

  
  
"Kirk here," He answered, pressing the comm button. "I'll be right there."

  
  
"There's an urgent streaming communication from Headquarters," She added tentatively. "But Captain-- there's a more pressing matter coming from the Recreation Room. Scotty and the security officers should be there already but-." She took a wavering breath. "-I don't know if it can be handled by them alone..."

  
  
"Nyota-," Jim thought carefully before continuing. "-mutinous tension...?"

 

  
"In my opinion, Captain," He could hear the gravity in Uhura's voice. "...a mutiny is  _already_  underway."

 

  
"Understood."

 

  
"Captain, what can I do? What can I do to help?"

  
Kirk thought for some time before answering, "Respond to headquarters for me. Send the message that tensions on the ship have reached a peak. Request transfer of the prisoner immediately to the nearest station."

 

  
"Aye, Captain."

  
  
There was the familiar pip, sounding the end of communication.

Jim flipped his legs out of bed, grabbing his uniform trousers and tunic when the comm pip beeped again.

 

"Mr. Spock?" Kirk guessed.

 

"It's Scott, captain."  
There was a loud crackle and spike of background noise, background voices.

 

"I'm on my way to the Rec," Kirk spoke as he dressed. "Has anything turned physical?"

  
  
" _Would you lot shut your fucking gobs already!_ " Scotty's voice managed to shout over the clamor. "Nah' yet, but it could be anytime now. Even the security back-up I ordered have aff an' disappeared."

 

Tensions had never been this chaotic, not on _his_  ship, not under  _his_  command.

Not even yesterday had things been so bad.

 

"Any idea as to how things spiked over night?" He asked.

 

  
"Ah, it ain't exactly morning, captain-."

  
  
Jim checked the clock-  
He'd only been asleep for two hours.

  
"This mince started 'aff around 100 hours," Scott continued. "Seems to be over 73. Some bastart leaked the information that Khan is her husband-- now everyone's gone all radge!"

 

"I'll be right there," Jim ended the communication when almost immediately the pip sounded again.

 

"Captain," Spock's voice came through again.

 

"I know, Spock, I'm coming right now," Jim picked up the mobile comm and spoke into it as he entered the hall- which was abandoned and eerily calm.

 

"I should inform you that I am not in the Recreation Room," Spock informed him. "I am attending to an important objective in the Brig."

 

" _What?_ " Kirk snapped. " _Dammit, Spock!_  I need you to use your Vulcan calm-down shit to try to influence the crew!"

 

"This is an important pursuit, Captain. I will report to the Recreation Room as soon as possible. We are transferring Averly to Sick Bay and-."

 

"Is she trying to escape?" Jim asked.

 

"No."

 

"Has she crushed someone's skull with her bare hands?"

 

"No, Captain."  
  


"Then _get to the fucking Recreation Room,_ Spock! Focus on her later! And makes sure Bones is at the Rec too or at least on his way." Kirk slammed the comm closed so hard the device made a cracking sound.

 

\--

 

Spock ignored the order momentarily and turned back to Wrenne who was being patted down by various security officers following established procedures.

He tapped his hand-held comm again.  

  
"You've got McCoy," Bones' voice came up.

 

"Doctor, we have a situation in-."

 

"I know all about it, Spock," He replied quickly, sounding out of breath. "I'm getting there now. Scotty says it's a superficial wound but I'm bringing extra staff and the full med kit just in case."  
 

  
"What has happened to Mr. Scott?" Spock demanded.

  
"He's been stabbed," Leonard's voice was weary and thin. "They don't know who did it yet, but Litige has also been wounded by a phaser shot. Get your green-blooded ass down here, alright?"

 

"I am coming immediately," He responded. "In the meantime, I am having Wrenne transferred to Sick Bay-."

  
  
"Good idea, she'll be safer there," McCoy puffed, running footsteps sounded in the background. "Have the officers take her there immediately- leave her with Lorel'ei- Officer Atch'axah," He corrected himself.

  
  
"A large security detail is beginning a 981H Procedure. Afterward-." 

  
  
 _"981H Procedure?!_ " Leonard exclaimed. "Spock- they _can't_ fulfill that procedure- get the detectors bands _as far from her as possible!"_

  
  
"Why-?" Spock wasn't able to finish his question.

  
  
"It will _endanger her life, Spock!"_ He paused briefly before adding: "It will endanger _two_ lives."

  
  
Spock heard Bones take a deep breath: " _No_ radiation, _no_ gamma rays-."

  
  
"Understood. Spock out."  
  


He strode quickly to Wrenne's cell.

  
  
"Stand aside," He ordered urgently. " _Stand down_ , remove _all_ bracers and detectors immediately-Officer Larkin, Officer Atch'axah- remove the company _now._ " Spock plucked the black batons and bands that he could reach, throwing them far from the cell.

  
  
"But Commander-," Larkin looked at him, startled.

  
  
"Commander Spock gave us an order, Officer," Atch'axah spoke with piercing purpose.

  
She already had an armful of bracers, detectors, shackles, and batons, her small frame bobbing quickly out of the cell as she ran to dump them in a pile by her desk.

  
Spock spared a glance after her.

 

Her white eyes were distracting- those snow light eyes framed by delicate, dark blue lashes- they always held the proper balance of duty and integrity. Her skin that calming shade of blue.

Atch'axah turned back toward Wrenne's cell, motioning for the other security officers to file out when his glance caught hers.

  
Spock looked away, nodding approval in her direction.

  
  
A twinkle of periwinkle flushed across the bridge of Atch'axah's nose as she gently approached Wrenne, who was standing by the left cell wall, cradling her head in her hands.

  
  
"A'dilei," Atch'axah took her arms. "Come with me."

  
Wrenne shook her head tiredly, "I didn't- I-I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

  
"Our head medical officer has the herbs to ease the Vespers*," She explained softly. "The emotions and thoughts will be much muffled." Atch'axah gently closed the electric handcuffs around Wrenne's wrists, then guided her carefully from the cell.

 

Suddenly Wrenne snapped to attention-  
"Wait- wait- where are you taking me-?"  
  
  
  
"Sick Bay," Spock answered.

  
  
He couldn't find anything else to say.  
  
 All he could think:

A child.  
  
 _A child._

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order Pt. 2 }_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes and Translations: 
> 
> \---*la vie quotidienne, French for "the daily life", connotating the complacency and boredom that comes from the day-to-day. 
> 
> \---*A'dilei, like in chapter four, it's a Syng word meaning "priestess"; a title from the Syng culture given to those with Wrenne's abilities.
> 
> \---*Vespers, psychic or empathic messages.
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> This chapter is a little sloppy- but I think it came together alright...some things I wish I presented more subtly...hmm...I'll keep tinkering with it. 
> 
> It's really difficult to juggle a chapter with so many large cogs and gears in the works- some that needed to be revealed in this chapter, some that needed to have a foreshadowing, and others that needed to stay hidden...
> 
> To clarify, the beginning segment in italics _is_ in the present, taking place on the Enterprise. That's all I'll say =3
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!  
> Keep reading <33


	7. Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insights into the early years of Khan's life and his developing plan to make Wrenne "important", a member of IIT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: Mature
> 
> Trigger warnings: violence, strong language, references to past sexual violence, mild domestic violence.

**__ **

**_{ Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt.2 }  
Chapter Seven_ **

 

Khan and Wrenne leaned against one of the water-heaters in the tiny closet, sinking to sit on the ground as they usually did during their clandestine meetings.  
  
  
"I can't believe you've had to live your life in a world like this," Wrenne thought aloud, running a hand up Khan's cheek. "without love."

  
"Love is not a need," He shrugged his shoulders, accidentally reciting the answer that had been branded into his mind all his life.

  
"Sex is on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs*," Wrenne pointed out. "Frankly, not having you right now is nearly maddening. How have you lasted like this? Without sex and love?"

  
"We have sex, that need is met," Khan sighed.

  
Wrenne rested her head on his chest and he rested a hand on the warm, sloped shelf of her breasts. From a simple body part he could feel not just physical attraction but the intimacy, the satisfaction, the comfort- even without skin contact.

"If you can't have sex with each other, than how does that work?" She looked at him skeptically.  
 

"Sex is lower on the  _Hayagrivan_  hierarchy of needs," Khan commented, eluding her question.

  
"Obviously, or we wouldn't be hiding in a utility closet like a couple of fifteen-year-olds."

  
"So American teenagers tuck themselves away in cupboards to- what did you call it?"

  
"'Making out,'" Wrenne chuckled softly. "...so then what did you do during adolescence?"

  
"What?" Khan glanced at his watch, which was counting down the time for their rendezvous.

"If it's illegal to sleep with other Augments, how the hell did you deal with the hormones?"

  
"It is only _'illegal'_  to engage in intercourse with other Augments, or outside the requirements of an assigned target or sexual examination."  
  
He cursed under his breath.  
  
He had meant to bite off the last three words but he had been too late.

  
Wrenne had stiffened immediately.

  
" _What the fuck?_ " She exclaimed, then hesitated, asking in a softer, more sensitive voice, "What do you mean  _'sexual examination'?_ "

  
"An assessment of sexual functions," He answered coolly. "They won't tolerate weakness or failure in any manner."

  
"You mean they-?"

  
"It is _not_  pleasant information," He moved away, angrily rising from the floor.

  
"But can't you-." Wrenne tried again, standing up beside him, but Khan was just as quick to interject-

_  
"No!"_

  
"But _what_ does-."

  
Khan grabbed her violently by the wrist, he felt the bones and tendons crunch together under his strength.

  
He held Wrenne so tightly just from one hand's grasp; she slumped to her knees, practically limp in his grasp as if he were sucking the very life from her.

  
"Do _NOT_  ask because I will  _not_  tell you!" He ordered angrily, shaking her aggressively from the wrist.

Wrenne's stubborn glare flickered with fear, shrinking away from him.  
   
  
"I'm _not_ some fragile doll you can just-." She tried to jerk her body from his hold and-

_-snap._

  
"Ah!" She whispered a whimper of pain, her breathing ragged as Khan let Wrenne slip her arm from his grip. "Ah..."  
  
She gasped from the sharp, stabbing sensation- her whole body seemed to scream an alarm. She bent over her broken wrist, trying to calm her breathing.

  
Khan had felt the bone about to give, but he hadn't managed to release her in time.

  
"I _told_ you _not_ to ask-," He began when Wrenne used her whole,  _intact_  hand to smack him hard across the face, hard enough to spread a burning tingle along his augmented cheeks.  
  
  
Now her only good hand throbbed and pumped painfully.

She'd never hit someone so fiercely before- and Wrenne was surprised that such a hit, one she had put her whole 130 something pounds into, didn't even move his head. It just jostled his dark hair across his forehead.

Shere Khan cocked his head ever so slightly, looking up at her from half-lidded, feral eyes that glinted an insight indecipherable, even to her.  
  
So Wrenne smacked him again as hard as she could, throwing in the force of her whole body so that she fell off balance.

  
Khan caught her immediately.  
Small tears started running down her cheeks.  
  
  
 _Why had she hit him twice?_ _  
 _Why had she hit him at all?__

  
She didn't push Khan away as he delicately straightened her onto her feet again.

Why was she still here? This hell hole imagined from some mangled nightmare of Dante and Ray Bradbury's--

  
 _"This_ ," Khan finally spoke. "is a savage land. You're too delicate for this place."

He held her broken wrist in a careful position that would bring her the most relief.  
  
  
"I am  _not_  delicate and I am  _not_  weak, you son of a bitch!" Wrenne tried to convey her anger despite the sob that was overtaking her system. "I  _won't_  be- be handled or forced or  _'persuaded'_  anymore!" She struck him again, meaning to only whack his chest but accidentally landing her hit firm against his jaw.

  
Only his dark locks wisped to the other side of his head, more skin reddening from the strike- but otherwise, there was no signs of violence.  
  
  
Khan looked at her with a blank expression Wrenne didn't want to read.  
Those eyes the color of heavy clouds about to snow.

  
"...I'm sorry," She whispered, covering her mouth with her broken joint, shivering with pain. She took her other hand to gently caress the light red mark on his face- the only trace of her rage, and it was already vanishing, healing. "I'm sorry- but _why_ did you--?! I've never thought-- let alone you-."

  
"Hayagriva," Khan spoke softly, trailing his long fingers down her cheek, beside the tear streaks. "It breeds savages."

  
She buried her face into his chest and he wrapped an arm around her lightly, holding her broken wrist in the tight brace of his hand.

Khan was silent and Wrenne wondered what he was thinking.

He was wondering over the strange comfort that came in finding savagery in Wrenne. And simultaneously- the painful, wringing feeling that came from finding it had escalated since he first met her.  
  
  
"...Would your country be willing to extract you?" Khan finally asked.

  
'I'm still _so_ fucking mad at you," Her voice shook in anger and hurt. "that I'm not ready to start talking yet."  
  
  
"Wrenne, _listen to me,_ " He gripped her shoulder with his free hand. " _Would_ they come fetch you if you were out from beyond The Second Curtain? In a more amicable country?"

 

"I-I don't know," She sighed, exasperated. "America was falling into an economic depression the last-the last time I was home..."

Wrenne thought for a moment.

  
  
"I don't think we have the money- and I'm not important enough," She pointed out, sucking air in through her teeth, trying _not_ to focus on the pain. "Famous journalists and entire commercial airplanes have vanished behind The 2nd Curtain and we couldn't afford to investigate..."

  
  
"But American media..." Khan thought aloud. "American media is the most _persuasive_  weapon in the world..."

  
  
"My parents are dead," Wrenne went to wipe her tears with her sleeve but Khan caught them with his thumb and gently brushed them away. "There's no one to make a fuss over me."

 

"Yes there is," Khan pointed out, irritated by her oversight.

  
"Well, of course _you_ but..."

  
"Your country's ideals and outrage will vouch for you too. Americans are _passionate_ , their 'righteous' type of rage has moved empires..."

  
  
There was a glint in Khan's eye again- the same one Wrenne had seen the day Noonien and he had transferred her to Re-Ed, or today just moments before when Khan had said his brothers and sisters "had a plan".

That glint in his eyes- like an eerily, unnaturally bright sun on a snowy day.

  
"What are you planning...?" She asked cautiously, slightly backing away from him.

  
This side  _did_  frighten her somewhat- the side of Khan that broke her wrist, that schemed to do who knows what to get her out of "re-education"- but also the side that had lowered his weapon and let her go, that hadn't struck back when she had hit him, who greeted her sexuality with arousing growls.

  
Unpredictable, reckless passion that could risk his own life and probably many others.  
  
  
Destroy or form whole planets.

  
  
The Shere-Khan side that reminded her this was an expertly trained hunter.

She didn't even really know him- it had only been two months.

An irritated twinge from her heart.

 _  
Not true_.

  
Her cynical, defensive side claimed she didn't know him at all- while her instinct said she somehow knew him better than the 72+ people constantly surrounding him.

  
  
"Jānama*," He reached out his hand to her.

  
There...the first use of what would be his pet name for her.

Wrenne looked at his long fingers, feeling like Christine Daaé standing before the Phantom in the mirror.  
  
  
She studied him, then took his hand and placed her head as close to his heart as she could.

  
He easily pressed his lips against her ear to whisper:  
"When living as a savage, you  _must_  be _important_  to survive. If you aren't necessary, you will die." Khan paused to let the severity of the truth sink in. "I can make you important- but it will hurt for a a few weeks."

Wrenne knew this was Khan asking her if she would allow this- whatever the plan was to make her "important".  
  
She  _could_  survive as a savage, she reasoned. Hadn't she already? After all, she had attacked him too- but still-  
  
  
  
"Why the fuck did you hurt me in the _first_  place!" She demanded, the anger finally bubbly up to her lips. She smacked his chest half-heartedly.

  
Khan was quiet.

  
"...It was an accident," He finally answered.

  
She felt the sadness and intense emotion wrack through her body like a windstorm- a memory-  _memories_ she could sense but not see or perceive.

  
"I forget how _fragile_ you are..." Khan though aloud.

  
His emotions were always so passionate and sudden, like a child's.  
  
Wrenne gripped his shirt with her good hand as she slumped, exhausted, to the ground.  
  
Khan wasn't surprised- he had helped her through other waves before. It was incredible to watch a process he had never seen- emotion so raw within that it actually altered the physical body's functions.

A study and skill that would definitely be useful to the Intelligence and Infiltration Task-force.  
  
  
Khan lied her down as much as he could in the tiny closet, her upper body leaning against his chest. He propped her legs carefully around the large tubes of the water heaters, one hand still holding her broken wrist.

  
"Khan," Wrenne finally whispered, running a hand up his neck. "...What did they _do_  to you?"

  
" _They_  may have made me," He spoke, though he sounded as if he were far away in a corner of his mind. "...but _I_ _made_ _myself_. _I_ made myself  _important_ , so I have lived. _I_  gave myself a life, and I do the same for those I love."

  
"Those you love?" It had never occurred to her who those people would be specifically. "Your crew- and your parents?"

 

"Obviously, I have no parents," Khan glanced down at her irritably. "I was conceived and grown in a petri dish...like a _virus_  or a _mold..._ but I love my brothers, my sisters- my crew in IIT, and you, Jānama." He carefully squeezed her a little tightly against him.

"They're- they're your _biological_ siblings? The IIT-- all 72 of them?"

 

"Most of them," He nodded. "I was the first of my gene pool to be constructed and completed successfully, so they used the same strand of genetics to forge most of my crew. We share most of the same genetics, we are family. But those who come from different strands- other than Etta-  I have never met any of them. The different strands cannot fraternize. Dr. Singh and his assistants worked on us- that is, their projects for years- going through numbers and the English alphabet to categorize them.  
     "They passed from 'A' to 'Z' repeatedly before me. Singh was the one who coined them 'strands', and there were nearly sixty years' worth of them. '435-7K'- strand 4,357. The letter was pure chance, the numbers specify the strand and date I originated from."

 

"Khan..." The question had never occurred to her before, but now she asked. "How old are you?"

  
"64," He replied easily. "I was 'born' in 1943."   
 

"Joachim-?"

  
"Second eldest, categorized 475-8J, strand 4,758. He came in 1961."

  
"Joaquin?"

  
"Fourth eldest, 484-0J, strand 4,840 born 1967."

  
"And Etta? She's from a different strand?"

Khan nodded,  
"Yes, she has- for one reason or another- been organized with us. Her categorized strand is classified beyond even her own knowledge.  She is my sister nonetheless.  
  
  
"...So we were given codes," He continued. "Dr. Singh was the one who actually tried to give us _proper_ names, though the superior authorities crippled him for it."

  
 _"Literally?"_

  
"You've never seen Singh, have you? They extracted an entire sample from his brain and purposefully left a large scar along here to remind him." Khan gestured from up his left jaw, across his forehead and down the back of his head. "Whatever they did in that procedure permanently affected his short-term memory and language function...among other things. It even stunted his hair growth, keeping him with a buzz cut like the prisoners in the Euthanasia Block so he doesn't forget who 'holds' his life. But it's a fucking bluff, they'd never kill him."

  
"Oh holy shit-," Wrenne breathed. "How can he still _function?_ "

  
She was surprised as she felt a Khan's strong flare of fear and concern for Singh.

Even stronger was Khan's admiration of him.  
  
  
"He's a genius- aside from his forgetfulness and inflicted speech impediment, he remains a genius and made himself a survivor, that is how he lives," He stated with pride. "Watching him taught me that _I_ make myself and if _I_ made myself- my loved ones- important, we...we would survive too.  
  
"Singh always wanted to name us after famous icons in history. You know now that Bouhler shut that down violently."  
  
  
"The head  _general_ Bouhler?" Wrenne asked again. 

  
"Yes."

 

"...So Joachim and  _everyone_  else- they came from strands after yours? And they endure- all this? No names, life-endangering missions and-- 'sexual examinations?'"

Wrenne felt a sting of guilt and fear for breaching the dangerous subject. 

  
  
"Yes. All of us. Some believe in the purpose of our missions, though we despise the authorities."

  
"Why do you do it? Why do you participate in these ' _assignments' ,_  these examinations?" She paused. "Were you- you weren't raped, were you?" She tightened her hand on his.

  
"No," He looked away, describing it all rather casually. "As in other examinations we go under, physical and mental, they test our limits to assure efficient function." Khan's lips crooked up in a small smile. "All sexual exams except for two which are strictly medical were abandoned after I tightened the order in this place."

  
"What did you do?" Wrenne looked at him incredulously.  
  
Khan regained his military composure, " _None_  of this is pleasant information. It's savage history."

  
"I don't care. Tell me. You _broke_  my fucking wrist over the subject, I deserve to know why...and I- I don't want you to have to carry all of this alone."

  
Khan gave her a complex look- as if trying to read a language he'd never seen before.  
  
"When we develop into sexuality," He began, reciting as if from a book. "We are instructed in sex, seduction by touch, and by words...the sway sexuality can have over individuals, the power sex can reign over people and alliances.  _Kama Sutra_  and other things with the Harem class."

  
"Harem-- you mean _prostitutes?_ "

  
" _Consorts_ ," Khan corrected. "The Harem is an upper class here. They watch the country through hookah smoke and lighted incense, opium, fine wine...The Harem men and women find us entertaining, beautiful, godlike. More like  _pets_ ," His face contorted into a passionate thunderstorm. He recomposed himself before continuing, "If one of us favors someone from the Harem class or vice versa, there are certain interactions and eventually a pleasant tumble for both partners. It helps the government reign us in from mingling with one another- 'muddying' the genetics they've slaved over- and specialists can interview the Harem individuals after certain rendezvous to assure proper sexual functions."

  
"...No one against their will?" She asked tentatively. Wrenne could sense there was something dark climbing to the front of his thoughts.  
  
  
"No."

  
The dark thing climbed out and lingered between them.

  
"...Are you certain you want to know this?"  
  
  
"Yes," Wrenne tucked her good arm around his torso. "If- if America _does_ manage to 'extract' me, I want to tell the world...what they're doing to you, to your brothers and sisters so no one else will be-."

  
 _"I will not have this information spread!_ " He ordered, looking down at her with that thunderous expression.

  
"Alright," She replied. "It's your-- pain. You don't have to share it at all if you don't want."

  
"I've never wanted to repeat this," He pondered. "...but it is best for you to know the risks in this country. The men and women who are your captors, the savages who are your...superiors. The knowledge..." He sighed. "...may help in the planning for your extraction."

  
After a moment Khan continued:  
  
"General Bouhler once attempted to measure my potential skill for sexual violence as I was the eldest. I supposed they wanted to know the extent of their first successful weapon."   
  
  
Wrenne felt herself choke on her own breath, Khan's suppressed emotions shaking through her body and mind. She tightened her hold on his hand.  
  
  
"Before they brought the woman in," Khan described. "I cracked the necks of the medical attendants who were trying to restrain us, and then I killed the assistant head-officer of genetics. I had fashioned a knife- one I still keep on me- and I used it to negotiate the woman's freedom in exchange for the life of the Lead Genetics Officer. They freed the girl, kept me, of course, and never attempted such an 'examination' again. I still killed the Lead Officer to maintain my resolve, my message. Those types of negotiations must be sealed with blood, standard battle logic.  
     "No one could best me in hand-to-hand, even as a teenager," Khan raised that regal mantle again. "After the deaths of 19 medical officers and 24 other commanders, they found I could not be caught as a victim either. I saved my brothers and sisters the experience and the bloodshed, since the 'sexual infiltration program' was exterminated after the deaths. I made those in authority  _regret_  their plans to hurt my family. And I would kill them all again, Wrenne."

She found herself shaking. No wonder the emotion wave had been so intense.

There was a long silence, and for once Wrenne felt a flare of insecurity from Khan.  
  
"You did the right thing, Beloved," Wrenne found herself saying. "...You did the _only_ right thing you could."  
   
  
More heavy silence, but-

/relief, gratitude, relief/  
  
  
"...It was an accident," He finally repeated, running a hand gently over her broken wrist, lowering his head in a sad but regal silhouette. She tenderly cupped his face in her hands despite the sharpening pain in her wrist.

Leaned her forehead against his.

/regret, humiliation/

  
"I understand," She whispered, transferred tears glittered her cheeks.  
  
Khan's tears and her tears.  
  
  
Wrenne couldn't hold off others' emotions, let alone such strong ones from the man she loved.  
So she cried the tears he did not.

  
"I love you, Jānama," He murmured, and there was a hitch in his breath, in his tone. The hint of a sob or a crest of more passion.

  
Again, it wasn't like the movies- he didn't take her hand and gesture grandly in front of thousands of people or gaze soulfully and dramatically into her eyes. He just spoke as they huddled together in a utility closet, her wrist broken and his face quickly recovering from the red marks her smacks had left-

-but it was more than enough.

"' _Beloved_ '," Wrenne smiled at the term. "I love you." She paused. "I always thought you were some type of warrior prince in a Taj Mahal," She admitted, referencing a previous conversation. "You act like one."

  
"No. I am The _Yuvarāja*-_  The _Prince_ of the _Prisoners_ ," Khan raised his head, again, such royal stance outlined his movements. "...but not for much longer. I won't die before  _I burn_  this government to the ground and erect some fucking  _order- real_ _order_. Humans  _need_  order, not torture. The world  _needs_  order and there _will be_  order."

At the time it had sounded so reasonable, so justified.

  
They were silent for a long time. Wrenne relaxed against his shoulder as the ferocity of Khan's vow echoed away.  
 

"Harem," Her voice shook as she tried to speak. "--sexual exams--me--?"

  
"No, it doesn't work that way. Harem class, they are the wealthy and leisurely. They'll show interest in you, but if you rebuff their advances, they'll respect it. There are no more sexual exams, only medical and physical ones. I'll explain them to you later. It is much more reasonable than anything you've experienced in Re-Ed. Besides, I  _would not_  allow you to endure _any_ kind of sexual examination. We  _were_  72,  _now_  we are 73. You will be one of us, and we will protect you."

"But you can't control it _all!_ " She protested weakly, still fatigued from the intense emotions that had raged through her. "How could you?"

43 people killed in the so-called sexual "examination", and who knows how young Khan had been when they had tried... Wrenne couldn't finish such a thought.

  
"Do you still trust me?" Khan asked- not out of insecurity, but rather seeking information.  
  
She nodded.  
  
  
"I  _can_  control it all and I _will_ ," He asserted, squeezing her so tightly that she squeaked to remind him of her broken wrist. "It all centers around the  _'important'_ , the _'better'_. The Important, the Superior survive. I will _make_  you important- just as I did for myself, for my brothers and sisters...But- becoming Important is a  _painful_  transition. Not many can withstand it, but I know _you_ can. The only _physically_ painful part of this will be the wrist," He glanced down at her broken joint. "...and whipping respect from those around you in order to survive. If ever I were to have a Rājakumārī* of the Prisoners alongside me, it would be you.  _Let me make you important._ "

His voice, with that tiger timbre.

Shere Khan*.

  
"...Make me Important," Wrenne looked up at him, grazing his lips with her fingers before she kissed him.  
Khan eventually broke away, affectionately brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. 

He bent to his ankle and pulled up his trouser leg, revealing a long, ivory knife strapped to his calf. Khan untying the weapon and carefully banding it around Wrenne's calf.

Sharp, polished and white- Wrenne knew it was the same knife that killed the Lead Genetics Officer, the knife that ransomed freedom. 

  
  
"After this," Khan gently touched her broken bone. "The walls of Hayagriva _will_  begin to crumble. No one will lay a hand on you...and you will _never_ be a prisoner again. You are my Jānama. My 73...my one in 73."

 

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage IV: The Superior & Important }_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and Translations:
> 
> \---Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is a psychological theory of man's priorities. A brief explanation and example would be: if you're wandering, starving in the desert, you're primary focus would be getting water/food/shelter; you wouldn't exactly be worrying if you were fulfilling your dreams of becoming a successful architect. 
> 
> \---Jānama, "beloved" in Hindi
> 
> \---Yuvarāja, "prince" in Hindi
> 
>  ---Rājakumārī, "princess" in Hindi
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> I was worried the most about this chapter...it's disturbing and complex, lots of long explanations... 
> 
> I don't want this to seem exploitative; using sexual violence for a cheap peak of drama or something. I'm trying to express what Khan has survived, what Khan has secured for himself and the ones he loves- as well as perhaps paint a picture for how he grows into the man in WoK and STiD, why he does what he does to maintain what he has secured. 
> 
> As for the scene when Khan grabs Wrenne by the wrist and she slumps to her knees- that is an allusion to a scene in "Space Seed" when Khan demands Marla's loyalty. 
> 
> Hope this all makes sense and isn't too disturbing. 
> 
> The next chapter takes us back to the Enterprise and moves much more quickly, there's much more action. We're nearing one of the _big_ climaxes! ^.^ 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments- keep reading! <3


	8. Weaving Stage IX: Order, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Enterprise crew reaches its breaking point and Kirk begins to piece together at least one of the causes. Wrenne receives shocking news from Dr. McCoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: mature
> 
> Trigger warnings: graphic sexual content, strong language

 

****

**_{ Weaving Stage IX: Order, Pt. 2 }_ **

****

\---

_"A_ natural _child..."  
Khan turned from the window and gave me one of his rare expressions of confusion, pensiveness- vulnerability. _

_"I've...," He hesitated."...always wanted to give someone- someone a_ natural _birth, parents and a family..."_

_\---_

Atch'axah led me to another Sick Bay bed and I fell exhausted against the mattress.

  
My breasts felt like hot, heavy stones- almost like each vein stung sharp with electricity.

Head was spinning and spiking an aching complaint.

And there were vibrations- vibrations from something I couldn't detect-

Something familiar, so familiar that I felt myself begin to panic over my desire recognize it.

  
McCoy entered the room with an extremely somber expression. It's weight nearly slowed his stride.

He gave me a concerned glance. "Are you doing alright, Wrenne?"

  
  
"Just- dizzy-," I murmured, perplexed and overwhelmed by his emotions.

  
  
/dread, sadness, regret  
doubt, pity, resigned-/

  
  
"I'll be with you in just a minute," the doctor sighed tiredly. "Lore'lei, take a look at this." Officer Atch'axah came up to him. McCoy extended a tablet toward her and she tucked her long, blue dreadlocks behind her ears as she bent over the screen.

  
She exclaimed a strange phrase- something from a different language.

  
/shock, surprise, fear  
concern, worry, fear, fear-/

  
  
"What..?" I tried to demand but my fatigue was overtaking me. "What is it?"

  
  
"I know this is outside your assigned duty," McCoy continued. "but since you have so much experience on Paxis in this area-."

  
/weight, weight, weight  
dread, depression-/

  
"Doctor, please-!" I insisted.

  
I think I already knew what he was going to say.  
The centuries of sleep had misplaced it all-

And I was terrified of the memory- that memory now teetering off the high shelf, teetering and about to fall into my arms.

  
\---

_"You've already managed your_ crew _like a family," I tried to sound reassuring, encouraging as I leaned over him and ran a hand up his chest. "It_ would _be different with our child- not so Spartan-."_

_  
"Yes!" Khan decided, flopping me onto my back and watched me with half-lidded, saucy eyes. "A child, a new, little family of our own-."_

_  
"Well, here we go, just jump to the objective!" I laughed, teasing him, rolling my eyes._

_  
He ran kisses to the crook of my neck, nipping at my skin with his teeth, a gentle brush of his tongue, a passionate suckle and nuzzle._

_I pushed down his pajama trousers, ran my touch tenderly over his hips to his cock- I loved the feeling of that vulnerability, the tender side of him I could hold in my hands and cradle inside myself-_

_But before I could relax, a troubling thought rose up._

_  
"Khan- what about-," I gasped and giggled as he trailed his lips down to my breasts, his fingers up my inner thighs. "-no really, wait- what may happen to our kids...? How can we know that they'll be-?"_

_  
"Human?" He finished._

_  
"-and_ safe..."

_  
"Cerridwen,_ I'm _not human- and neither are you. Our children will be a new race of human...something new- maybe the_ true _Superior."_

\---

  
  
"Wrenne," the doctor came to my bedside, leaning tiredly, heavily against the side of bed frame.

Such _weight_ on his shoulders...how had I never noticed before?

"Did you and- Khan- ever try to conceive?" He asked.

  
I felt my breathing again, that way it sometimes felt as if I wasn't getting enough air.  
Hyperventilating.

  
"You're saying- you're saying I'm pregnant," I covered my face with my hands. "I'm _pregnant_ \- you're-you're saying I'm-I'm--."

_\---_

_"I couldn't care less if the kids are human- but how can we be sure they'll be safe? I_ won't _have them-- fall into being- into being_ subjects or-." I closed my eyes over my rising tears.

_  
"They'll be safe," Khan swore to me with a surety, a passion, a dedication that seemed to strike straight to the center of the earth._

_  
He took my face in his hands: "...they'll have_ us- _and 72 uncles and aunts to protect them."_

_  
"But promise me you won't assign them as some type of police for society- some leader- that may be your choice but it might not be theirs- they should be free, even if they are a different- a different kind of human-."_

_"Our children," Khan assured me. "will have the luxury of choosing their_ own _path."_  


_He smiled and I saw the dream, the happy plan glimmer brightly in his eyes._

_"Your parents were Augments. They fled their government, and_ you _were born naturally._ You're _fine, aren't you? A fine, albeit_ superior _type of human," Khan commented. "Our kids- they'll be the same: a more focused, less obvious talent, like yours but still augmented..._ You _are proof that this natural procreation is safer for our kind- you're stable with rare gifts...less susceptible to obsessions and delusions..." Khan thought aloud._

_  
"As long as our children will be safe," I rose off of the lumpy bed and looked coyly over my shoulder. "And maybe if you can manage to catch me..."_

_  
Khan gave a playful growl- low and passionate, the kind he knew sent tingling heat to my hips. He leapt off the bed and I laughed as I sprinted from the bedroom._

_  
Cliché! My inner critic chimed- chasing each other like giddy youngsters-_

_But I didn't care, we were newlyweds and we were free._

_I darted and weaved around the wooden beams in our tiny apartment, sparing playful glances, receiving his hunter's gaze- hearing Khan purposefully landing his footsteps loud and heavy-_

_I made it out to the front yard and the meadow of daisies._

_  
Quaker trees littered here and there, I'd cup their trunk in my hand to swing around- and eventually when I swung around Khan was there; he caught me fiercely, covered and gathered me completely, biting that delicate, ticklish skin of my neck._

_  
"You don't run well enough, tigress," He tenderly licked the red circle of the love-bite. He ran his hands up my thighs, again playing his fingers along the inner side._

_I loved his bites, the feeling of his teeth closing on my skin-_  
  
Khan pressed his body against me and I laughed at the sparkling, throbbing feeling from between my legs.

_  
The quaker tree we were leaning against groaned tiredly._

_His cock was hard and demanding- I loved that feeling, that pressure against my abdomen, against my sex._

  
  
But then there came a sudden rush of self-consciousness-

  
  
“While I love that we can kiss in public and make love away from secret closets,” I gasped for air, as he heaved me up, my legs apart and knees high- his erection taut and teasing against my moist center- nearly all rational thought vanished from my head.

_He was grinding his hips in a rhythm that was maddening--_

_Khan discarded my blouse, we fumbled with his trousers and untangling my bra from my top- awkward moments that made me giggle._  
  
The wave of bashfulness tickled me again.  


_  
“…this-this," I couldn't hold back the hitches and silly, aroused squeaks and gasps, feeling that dizzying high of a rising, building orgasm before he'd even slid his cock inside me. "-this is a little more public than I-.”_

  
  
“Worry, worry, worry, Jānama,” He breathed raggedly, exclaiming softly, deeply; caressing my breasts, his mouth closing over my nipple, sucking and pulling my nipple up and erect, running his tongue to guide it up, up- "Nothing watching..." He started, taking my other breast in his lips before finishing, "nothing but the quaking trees and wabi-sabi* daisies."

_I waited for the shyness to pass, washed away by the sensations from my body- from his body._  
  
  
"I could still escape," I nibbled his bottom lip. "Come harder, press me flat, shake my bones- take me like a tiger."

_I pushed him back- of course only because he allowed it- and I ran away, the grass grazing my bare feet._

_I wanted our love-play, I wanted our love-making like we'd done times before- but this- I wanted a_ mating.

_A_ real _mating._  


_"You may have caught me, but you'll never conquer me," I had declared._

  
  
"I'd never want you conquered, my beloved. Never." He had answered.[*]

 

_My world shrunk, focused and narrowed on nothing but pleasure._

_"I want all of you, branded by all of you," I insisted._

_"You are mine," He growled. "And I am yours."  
   _

 

_I  felt the cool Palmyra air brush against my breasts, pleasingly cold against the moisture of my sex, the remnants of his seed that tingled inside me._

 

_Life._

 

_First freedom, now life._

 

_More life and freedom for us both in o_ _ur secluded little cottage of an apartment in Palmyra, New York._

 

_The home Khan had literally built for us. The daisies- the type of flower he had never seen, the flowers that had excited him so much, the flowers that rose up from our nest among the meadow._

 

_He loved the daisies because of wabi-sabi*, because he had never known imperfection could accentuate beauty._

_Our own little decision in our own little meadow for our own little children._

_\---_

It had been an intimate, cherished memory.

But now it was smudged with the fingerprints of that Commanding Officer.

Something told me he hadn't meant to find _that_ specifically- he didn't seem like a pervert-

Maybe he hadn't even seen the most private part of that memory- 

But I didn't know- and he had still crossed a line- I realized I absolutely  _couldn't_ trust him.

  
  
So naked and exposed...

Even more so as I thought of the helpless life within, depending on me.  
  
  
Spock had slipped into my mind and rifled through my memories- who know how much? How deeply?  
  
Anger, frustration, nudity all raged through me to distract me from the more overwhelming, the more upsetting emotions-

  
  
"You _are_ pregnant, Wrenne," McCoy confirmed. "I don't know how we didn't see the fetus in our initial body scans- when we first revived you- but..."

  
  
I placed my hands on my stomach.

  
  
"What's- what's- what's--?" I stuttered in panic. "What's going to _happen?"_

My whole body was shaking and shivering, nausea swiftly tingling up my system.

"Are you-are you going to set my _child_ in shackles too? T-take my ch-child to an _interrogation?_ Keep- keep us--."

  
  
I couldn't finish.

  
  
Khan, I thought desperately, calling out to him in whatever existence death had transferred him to- _Khan, come to me, what will I do? What will I do? Where are you? Oh Khan, pass through death- come to me please, God, please bring him back to me-_

  
  
"Wrenne, look at me," McCoy took my shoulders tightly in his hands.  His eyes were ringed with echoes of sleepless nights but surety too, and dedication- his authority was reassuring. " _You_ are going to be alright. _Your child_   is going to be alright. You'll both be safe, I _promise_ you. He'll come into this world healthy and eager and _innocent_ \- you know why? Because I _believe you are innocent too._ Khan's crimes are not on you _or_ your baby."

  
I blinked through stinging tears, staring at him blankly.

  
  
"... _'He'?"_ I repeated in a wispy weak voice.

  
  
The doctor nodded, letting go of my shoulders and comfortingly running his hand down my arm.

  
  
"You're having a boy," He affirmed. "...at least... _one_ boy. You're having twins. We won't know if they're identical or fraternal until I get a pap swab from you. Do you think you're up for pelvic exam?"

  
  
"A boy...and a girl?" I stared ahead at the white wall, feeling separate from my body.

  
  
"Maybe. They could both be boys. The swab will tell. You're very early in your pregnancy, but we have the technology to determine the sexes."   

  
Warm tears, _hot_ tears burning down my cheeks.

I put my head in my hands, I curled into a ball on my bed, holding the curve of my abdomen, cupping the tender forms inside.

  
  
No, no, no--

_But yes-! but no--_

  
  
We have our children.

But without Khan- there would be no family.

Not the family we had dreamed of during that twilight in a Palmyra summer meadow.

_\-------_

 

Kirk entered the Rec Room expecting to meet a boiling mob-

-but was instead met with silence, stillness.

 

The crew was scattered around the area, collapsed over tables, curled up on the floor, leaning against the walls-

-and sobbing.

 

Panicking, whimpering, weeping.

 

"What-?" A surprised voice exclaimed behind him.

Jim glanced over his shoulder at the gray-haired man standing with him in the doorway.  


"Did you see what happened here...?" Kirk hesitated, the man's name escaping him.

 

"Milton, captain. Officer Milton," He strode into the room. "And no, I didn't manage to witness anything. I was at my post when Mr. Scott called me for help- I came as quickly as I could."

Milton bent over an especially distressed crewman who had his arms thrown over his head as he rocked himself back and forward.

 

"Yeoman Larkin- what has-?" the officer began but Larkin screamed,

 

" _Go away! Go away!_ I don't know what I'm going to do! Can't you see there's no way out?!"

 

"No way out," someone else sobbed.

  
"What do you mean, Larkin?" Kirk grabbed him by the shoulder. "We're fine, we're under stress but this is nothing we haven't managed to survive before!Come out of it, Officer, you'll be fine-." Jim stood and addressed everyone. "We'll _all_ be fine-."

 

"Why don't you just _shut your gob, Jim!_ " Scotty had staggered towards him, blood running from a wound in his side. He stumbled and grabbed onto Kirk for balance. "I can't manage the engine. I always thought I understood her and I _do- I do!_ But what if I can't? What if this is the time I fail? What-." Scott digressed into hopelessness, tears running down his cheeks.

 

Jim grabbed onto him and Milton flipped open his comm.

 

"McCoy," the doctor acknowledged.

 

"Officer Milton, here, sir. Doctor, what happened to the medical officers sent to attend to Mr. Scott?" Milton demanded urgently. "- and Commander Litige--?"

 

"They're _there_ , Milton- they contacted me less than fifteen minutes ago! They were wrapping Scott's wound and-," Leonard was interrupted by a nurse who had secluded herself in a corner.

 

" _I_ was helping him- _I_ was doing my job, but there's no hope- even if we bandage him, he'll die eventually- we're _all_ going to _die_ eventually--!"

 

"And what the fuck was I thinking? _'medical officer'!_ I'm no _'medical officer'!_ I'll never be good enough- _I'll_ never save lives! Dad was right- I'm too stupid, too damn _useless_ to let people's lives lie in my hands-!"  

 

"Bones," Kirk took Milton's comm. "get over here immediately- the entire crew is beset by some type of- incapacitating... _despair_ \- get Spock down here too- I'm going to do what I can."

 

" _Despair?_ " McCoy repeated in shock. "Last I heard, they were shouting and arguing-."

 

"Come right now," Jim insisted, then realized: "wait- are you with 73?"

 

"Yes but-."

 

"Bring her with you," He ordered. "Something tells me her 'abilities' are much stronger and much more dangerous than she told us- but be sure she's got heavy restraints. Kirk out."

 

"Thank you, Milton," He flipped the comm closed and handed it back to the officer.

 

"Of course, captain," Milton began carefully surveying the room, stepping carefully between the grief-stricken crewmen. "Forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds-," he continued. "-but is this _'73'_ prisoner...is she really- Singh's wife?"

  
"Yes!" Litige moaned from where she lied on the floor of the far end of the Rec Room. "She's that bastard's bitch! That mother-fucker who killed my husband! He _killed_ my husband!"

 

She cried fiercely, nearly howling with grief.

 

"-G-Gareb..." She hiccupped with sobs. " _My_ Gareb--! He wasn't-wasn't even going to _go_ to Section 31- we were just in London for vacation- he just wanted to drop by and say hello to an old friend who worked at the archive- he shouldn't have taken him more than twenty minutes- I'll never be the same- why is he gone? Why did that _sadistic_ fucker take him from me?!"

 

Kirk took his own comm and contacted Spock.

 

"Come _immediately-_ and bring the girl, 73. _Now._ "

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage X }_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and translations:
> 
> \---"wabi-sabi": 侘寂, represents a comprehensive Japanese world view on accepting transience and imperfection- that imperfection can make things more beautiful, like the crack in the Liberty Bell. This aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete". It is a concept derived from the Buddhist teaching of the three marks of existence. [(Source)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wabi-sabi)
> 
>  
> 
> \---I edited out some of the sex scene here so readers who would prefer to skip it can continue with the story. For the full, unabridged love scene, see the mini chapter, Chapter Nine.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> When it comes to the crew's hysterical state, I was obviously inspired by the TNG episode with Savek- but I also thought this would match Wrenne's abilities and help you begin to see the more dangerous side of her power =3 
> 
> Again, thanks so much for kudos/comments! Keep reading! ^_^


	9. Wabi-Sabi (Mini Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cutting to the 21st century during a time when they are free from Hayagriva and living in America, Wrenne and Khan tangle themselves into a true mating, preparing for children and a new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: Mature
> 
> Trigger warnings: graphic sexual content, some language.

_**** _

_**{ Mini-Chapter: Wabi-Sabi }** _

 

"A _natural_ child..."  
Khan turned from the window and gave me one of his rare expressions of confusion, pensiveness- vulnerability.

"I've...," He hesitated."...always wanted to give someone- someone a _natural_ birth, parents and a family..." 

 

"You've already managed your crew like a family," I tried to sound reassuring, encouraging as I leaned over him and ran a hand up his chest. "It would be different with our child- not so Spartan-."

 

"Yes!" Khan decided, flopping me onto my back and watched me with half-lidded, saucy eyes. "A child, a new, little family of our own-."

 

"Well, here we go, just jump to the objective!" I laughed, teasing him, rolling my eyes.

 

He ran kisses to the crook of my neck, nipping at my skin with his teeth, a gentle brush of his tongue, a passionate suckle and nuzzle.

I pushed down his pajama trousers, ran my touch tenderly over his hips to his cock- I loved the feeling of that vulnerability, the tender side of him I could hold in my hands and cradle inside myself-

But before I could relax, a troubling thought rose up.

 

"Khan- what about-," I gasped and giggled as he trailed his lips down to my breasts, his fingers up my inner thighs. "-no really, wait- what may happen to our kids...? How can we know that they'll be-?"

 

"Human?" He finished.

 

"-and safe..."

 

 "Cerridwen, I'm not _truly_ human- and neither are you. Our children will be a new race of human...something new- maybe the true _Superior_."

 

"I couldn't care less if the kids are human- but how can we be sure they'll be safe? I won't have them-- fall into being- into being subjects or-." I closed my eyes over my rising tears.

  
"They'll be safe," Khan swore to me with a surety, a passion, a dedication that seemed to strike straight to the center of the earth.

 

He kissed away my tears and took my face in his hands: "...they'll have us- and 72 uncles and aunts to protect them."

  
"But promise me you won't assign them as some type of police for society- some leader- that may be _your_ choice but it might not be theirs- they should be free, even if they are a different- a different kind of human-."

 

"Our children," Khan assured me. "will have the luxury of choosing their own path."

He smiled and I saw the dream, the happy plan glimmer brightly in his eyes.

 

"Your parents were Augments. They fled their government, and you were born naturally. You're fine, aren't you? A fine, albeit  _superior_ type of human," Khan commented. "Our kids- they'll be the same: a more focused, less obvious talent, like yours but still augmented...You are proof that this natural procreation is safer for our kind- you're stable _and_ with rare gifts...less susceptible to obsessions and delusions..." Khan thought aloud.

 

  
"As long as our children will be safe," I rose off of the lumpy bed and looked coyly over my shoulder. "And maybe if you can manage to catch me..."

 

  
Khan gave a playful growl- low and passionate, the kind he knew sent tingling heat to my hips. He leapt off the bed and I laughed as I sprinted from the bedroom.

  
Cliché! My inner critic chimed- chasing each other like giddy youngsters-

But I didn't care, we were newlyweds and we were free.

 

I darted and weaved around the wooden beams in our tiny apartment, sparing playful glances, receiving his hunter's gaze- hearing Khan purposefully landing his footsteps loud and heavy-

I made it out to the front yard and the meadow of daisies.

  
Quaker trees littered here and there, I'd cup their trunk in my hand to swing around- and eventually when I swung around Khan was there; he caught me fiercely, covered and gathered me completely, biting that delicate, ticklish skin of my neck.

 

  
"You don't run well enough, tigress," He tenderly licked the red circle of the love-bite. He ran his hands up my thighs, again playing his fingers along the inner side.

I loved his bites, the feeling of his teeth closing on my skin-   
  
Khan pressed his body against me and I laughed at the sparkling, throbbing feeling from between my legs.

 

  
The quaker tree we were leaning against groaned tiredly.

His cock was hard and demanding- I loved that feeling, that pressure against my abdomen, against my sex.

 

But then there came a sudden rush of self-consciousness-

 

“While I love that we can kiss in public and make love away from secret closets,” I gasped for air, as he heaved me up, my legs apart and knees high- his erection taut and teasing against my moist center- nearly all rational thought vanished from my head-

He was grinding his hips in a rhythm that was maddening--

 

Khan discarded my blouse, we fumbled with his trousers and untangling my bra from my top- awkward moments that made me giggle.  
  
But that wave of self-consciousness lingered.

 

 “…this-this," I couldn't hold back the hitches and silly, aroused squeaks and gasps, feeling that dizzying high of a rising, building orgasm before he'd even slid his cock inside me. "-this is a little more public than I-.”  

 

“Worry, worry, worry, Jānama,” He breathed raggedly, exclaiming softly, deeply; caressing my breasts, his mouth closing over my nipple, sucking and pulling my nipple up and erect, running his tongue to guide it up, up- "No one watching..." He started, taking my other breast in his lips before finishing, "nothing but the quaking trees and wabi-sabi* daisies."

I waited for the shyness to pass, washed away by the sensations from my body- from his body.

  
"I could still escape," I nibbled his bottom lip. "Come harder, press me flat, shake my bones- take me like a tiger."

  
I pushed him away- of course only because he allowed it- and I ran away, the grass grazing my bare feet.

I wanted our love-play, I wanted our love-making like we'd done times before- but this- I wanted a _mating._

 

A _real_ mating.

 

And I could tell he felt the same- a new hunt, a new pleasure added to our intimacy- not just pursuing arousal, but also creation-

 

 

We played and chased and dodged and hunted until he couldn't hold back anymore-

He leapt forward, threw his arms tightly around my legs, and brought me down hard to the little forest floor.

I cried out in surprise, gasping and panting on all fours as he greedily pressed his hands against my skin, up my buttocks, up my back, back down- his fingers finding their way and plunging inside my sex.

Another exclamation- from him and me.

 

"You're so moist, so soft," Khan brushed and nuzzled his face up and down my spine as he twisted his fingers inside me, trailing up to my clit.

 

"Oh damn, Khan- that-."

 

"It'll make you come, won't it?" I heard the satisfaction in his voice as he brushed his cock down my buttocks to the right place-. "But once is never enough for you. I'll make you scream, I'll hear that climax scream more than once before I'm done."

 

"You may have caught me, but you'll never conquer me."

 

Khan slipped his fingers out and now guided his cock inside me, dragging a sharp breath from my lungs and tearing a groan from his chest.

 

"I'd _never_ want you conquered, my beloved. _Never_."

 

Khan took to me so swiftly, urgently- neither of us could hold back any longer for playing. His hips rocking, pumping, stretching and pulling me, burning inside my vagina.

He eased back and returned harder.

 

"My-my _favorite_ little place in the world..." He breathed, managing to press a couple fingers inside where we were connected.

Rubbing his cheeks back up my spine, more nuzzling against that crook of my neck.

 

"Don't stop," I panted, licking my dry lips, digging my nails into the grass and dirt. "Khan- please- I can't stand it anymore- come--."

 

He powered again inside me, the feeling of fullness intensifying until the peak came and I shook, writhing, throwing my head back and to the side, the rise racking through me- my sex ached as my hips convulsed, tossing so fiercely from side to side that Khan had to grab my buttocks to keep us connected, to keep us balanced.

 

A mating, a true mating.

 

My world had shrunk, focused and narrowed on nothing but pleasure.

He thrust harder, his breath and groans so loud and so satisfying-

 

I felt that small, scratching barb erect from the tip of his cock, cling to the walls inside my sex.

He bellowed softly, hips pounding pumping-

 

The barb clutched inside me, pulling back hard but never releasing me  with each of Khan's retreat.

The pain was a mix of pleasure and some discomfort-

-the splice of lion genetics* ensuring our mating, our coming, our creations-

 

And then Khan came fiercely too, slumping over me and throwing his arms around my middle, holding and scratching and writhing so wildly- hands scratching up and around, digging in and then softly caressing the folds of my stomach, my breasts-

Closing his teeth tightly, grabbing the back of my neck between his teeth.

As the tremor of pleasure slowly ebbed away, his touch was tender, his mouth soft as he caringly licked the large, red mark he had left, trailing his tongue to the curve of my shoulder and neck-

 

One last hard bite-

Why did it feel so amazing? The simultaneous real hurt and _pleasurable_ pain-

 

"My beloved," Khan murmured against my skin, wet from his kisses and bites.

 

" Jānama," I sighed.

 

The barb released as his cock slid out of my sex.

I shuffled and hitched tight in pain- the barb's retraction was always somewhat unpleasant.

He slid out carefully, tenderly.

 

I turned and lied on my back against the grassy ground, pulling him down over me.

"I'll always love you," I smiled, still out of breath.

 

"I will love you beyond my life, beyond the grave and death itself, my beloved."

Khan looked down at me so intensely I shivered.

 

I felt the anxiety rising from his heart.

 

/worry, anxiety, concern  
regret, worry, insecure-/

 

"You didn't hurt me," I reassured him, caressing his chest, down his hips, his tight buttocks. "I love that little extra- clutch." I flushed bashfully. "For some reason- the real pain and the pleasurable pain- together, it feels..." I blushed more deeply. "...Don't ever hold it back again. I want _all_ of you, branded by all of you."

 

Khan laid down on his side, pulling me against him and kissing me passionately, tangling my tongue with his.

 

"You are mine," He growled after releasing my lips. "And I am yours."  
  

I nodded, cupping his cheek in my hand.

 

He leaned against my grasp, closing his tired eyes.

I ran my hands through his hair, he lowered his head to lay against my breasts.

I cradled him against my heart, against my breasts.

 

I felt the cool Palmyra air brush against my skin, pleasingly cold against the moisture of my sex, the remnants of his seed that tingled inside me.

 

_Life._

First freedom, now life.

More life and freedom for us both in our secluded little cottage of an apartment in Palmyra, New York.

 

The home Khan had literally built for us. The daisies- the type of flower he had never seen, the flowers that had delighted him so much, the flowers that rose up from our nest among the meadow.

He loved the daisies because of wabi-sabi*, because he had never known imperfection could accentuate beauty.

 

Our own little decision in our own little meadow for our own little children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and translations:
> 
> \---"wabi-sabi": 侘寂, represents a comprehensive Japanese world view on accepting transience and imperfection- that imperfection can make things more beautiful, like the crack in the Liberty Bell. This aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete". It is a concept derived from the Buddhist teaching of the three marks of existence
> 
>  
> 
> \---Lion genetics- male lions have small barbs on their penis to secure the female so the semen can enter more surely. Since Khan is biologically engineered, I figured they'd try to add splices of other animals. I thought it'd be kind of um, really sexy if he had some lion in him...thought about making it tiger, but I worried that would've been too corny.  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> FINALLY, am I right? I meant to put a love scene much sooner in the story, but it turned out the story had its own rhythm so I've been following it. Hope this isn't too kinky- again, I'm new to publishing my smut writing, so forgive any amateur faux pas....
> 
> Sorry to just tack on the new info on Wrenne's background- not very well done =\ I wanted to present it differently, but oh well. Her parents were Augments from a different country and program than Khan. They managed to escape and make it to America, giving birth to Wrenne naturally, and moving around a lot to avoid certain dangers that followed them. They eventually settled in Wales when Wrenne was ten years old. Her parents died under mysterious circumstances to be revealed later. Again, REALLY sorry to tack this on at the end...very poorly done, sorry...
> 
> In case there is any confusion, this scene plops you in a time after Khan, Wrenne, and the crew have escaped from Hayagriva (but HOW? You'll see...). Khan and Wrenne are temporarily living in a small New York state town, Palmyra. 
> 
> The meadow was inspired by something in my life- I visited Palmyra with my family, and we wandered into a forest/grove of thin, quaker trees and grass- eventually we came upon one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen in my life: a still meadow flooded with daisies, sunflowers, and tall grass. A lone stag lingered there. 
> 
> I thought this would be a perfect, romantic place for making love x3


	10. Weaving Stage X: Blur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrenne endures a nightmare; her deadly ability is revealed as well as the conditions of her abduction in the 21st century. 
> 
> The Enterprise crew is saved, but when Wrenne wakes she falls into a living-nightmare as she discovers Kirk, Spock, and McCoy have known more than they've been telling her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: Mature
> 
> \--Trigger warnings: violence, blood/gore, strong language, brief sexual violence

**__ **

_**{ Weaving Stage X: Blur }**  
_ __  


_One of my first assignments with IIT._

 

_Etta had only left me for a moment, but it was long enough for the light-haired mercenary to come up on me._

 

 _"You think you're_ so _smart, girly?" He sneered at me, another man's blood smeared on his cheeks, on his clothes._

_I backed away from him, shaking hands holding my gun on him- but he had cornered me in front of a high pile of rubble._

_"You think you're so much_ better _than us?" He continued, each word soaked in venom and a thick Russian accent. "_ Superior _humans!"_

 

_His laugh sounded more like the sharp crack of a whip._

 

_He disarmed me with a simple maneuver and grabbed me hard by the arms- I tried to dodge, kick, wriggle- but I was still so green, I was no warrior. I might as well have been back in the orange fields by the Satluj._

 

_The mercenary pinned me still against the crumbling wall._

 I tried to reach the knife- Khan's ivory knife- but it was strapped to my calf.

It was too far away.

 

_"I'll put you in your place, you cunt!" He unbuckled his belt, unzipping his trousers-_

 

_I felt like I was going to throw up-_

 

_But then this anger flashed like a strike of lightning in my mind- blinding light sweeping out all thought._

_This strange rage bubbling up my throat, up my chest-_

_It burned like acid, but satisfying like a purge-_

 

_I looked at this stranger, this Russian mercenary- I was happy to feel the acid, the toxicity target him immediately._

 

_"NO." I declared, staring him straight in the eye despite the tears pouring down my cheeks._

 

_"Oh-ho yes, you stupid fucking-!" He slapped me and taking my pants, pulling down the zipper-_

 

_"NO!" I screamed-_

 

_-and I screamed like a mad woman,  screeching and shrieking in fury like that night on the bank of the Satluj when I'd heard the gunshot, knew Eranja was dead-_

_Khan had called it a war cry._

 

 _But_ this _moment, as I cried out-_

_The Russian man suddenly wobbled weakly-_

 

 

_It happened so quickly._

 

He _started to scream- scream while scarlet blood began trickling from his eyes, his ears, his nose- building to a steady flow- he grabbed his head- starting to stagger and stumble away in agony-_

_And then his eyes burst like egg yolks, bloody, sticky globs landing hot on my face, more bubble and beads and gobbets straggling down his cheeks._

_The horrified, strained, and tearing shriek ripping up from his throat-_

_  
His face had flushed so red I covered my eyes, afraid his head would burst as well--_

_-when he finally stopped screaming._

 

_I heard him flop, limp and heavy onto the ground._

_I couldn't uncover my eyes._

_I couldn't bring myself to look._

_Eventually I had to._

_The Russian mercenary lied dead among the gray dust of a crumbled city, ears, nose, and eyes still spouting a scarlet blood._

 

_"Wrenne!"_

 

_I heard Etta's voice but she seemed so far away._

 

_The mercenary._

 

_Craters in his face where his eyes had been- the splatter along his empty sockets from the violent burst of blood-_

 

_"Wrenne-," Etta barely regarded the dead man on the ground._

_She took my shoulders and held me close-_

_But all I could think:_

 

_Craters._

 

_Etta was whispering soothing words, patting me down to check for injuries._

 

_"You're alright, you're in one piece, lado*-"_

 

_Craters._

 

" _Oh lado, mera chanda*, it's alright, he's dead he can't..."_

_  
I pushed her away and jerked over, heaving fiercely and painfully, vomit slapping down onto my boots, sick dribbling away along the dusty ground._

_It had splashed onto Etta's fatigues, splattered against the rubble wall but still all I could think-_

 

Cratered eye sockets _carved_ into his skull.

_I turned away from Etta- I couldn't stop the dry heaves and the tears and the mucus dripping from my nose-_

_I fell against the rubble wall and gripped my hair in my hands, pulling my black strands to crack and tear the hairs from my scalp. I needed the pain, I needed it to ground me-_

 

_-pain to ground me, and glue me  together or I would shatter, crack, and splinter-_

 

_"Lado, lado, shhh, mera chada, shhh...." Etta cooed, cradling me against her heart, soothingly rocking me back and forth. She combed her fingers through my hair, moving my hands so I couldn't hurt myself any longer. "...it's alright, it's over, we secured the conquest-  you did the right thing, he was a Soviet, he was the enemy...you kept yourself safe-." Etta tore two strips of fabric from her uniform and gently wiped the rest of sick from my mouth, the mucus from my nose. "The first kill is always the hardest...I remember when..."_

 

_I couldn't keep Etta tuned in._

 

_I kept drifting away._

 

_I had told Khan I couldn't kill a man._

_I was wrong._

_\---_

Pulling, pulling.  
 _  
_

_"_ _Something tells me her 'abilities' are much stronger and much more dangerous than she told us- but be sure she's got heavy restraints. Kirk out."_

 

_"Dotor, you have to take me-  I'm killing your crew, I have to stop it-!"_

 

Craters, _craters--_

 

I felt my veins jerk like they'd been sparked with static shock.

And I was pulling and pulling.

Everything was all blurred and swirled together, like wet paint bleeding down a wall.

 

Atch'axah's light blue face.

 

_"Short-Circuit."_

 

_"Extroverted empathy."_

 

_"Minds are boiling pots, and boiling pots will overflow."_

 

Those bright lighted handcuffs.

 

The worry-wrinkles in McCoy's forehead and those heavy eyes of his- determined, sad, but rebellious.

 

_"She's practically at the beginning of her second trimester, I'm not putting her in damn shackles!"_

I had focused my energy on sending out calming, soothing vibrations to these people- these people on this strange ship-

Pulling and pulling a heavy weight out of a deep darkness.

 

 

The crew was _screaming_ in despair-

 

Screaming like that mercenary-

 

Strong and wild emotions.

 

Pulling and pulling-

 

Legs weak, my chest heaving for breath.

 

And it was all blurred and swirled together-

 

That old man with the silver hair and tan skin-

 

His eyes, his gaze-

 

It made my skin crawl-

 

Pulling and pulling, but my arms began to shake- weak, and tired.

 

 _"_ _I need help- I've never carried this many people-."_

 

Spock's face, pale and calm.

 

 _"Show me and I will help."_  

 

Blur, blur, blur.

\---

 

**_(Weaving Stage IV: Potential Energy)_ **

 

I was running, tumbling down the Observatory's steep hill, my arm stinging and cold with blood.  I had dug out the microchip Chavez had inserted, but I swore I could still feel its sharp shape under my skin or Chavez himself breathing down my neck.

 

The grass scratched and nipped at me as I fumbled down the hill.

" _Now!  Now,_ Wrenne, come on!" Valerian gestured to me desperately, his wolf eyes sparking golden in the night.

 

He caught and pulled me out of another painful stumble down the grass.

 

"We've got her," Valerian spoke into his earpiece as he picked me up so he could move more quickly through the nearby woods. "She's safe, we've got- Singh, is that you?  Where's Tom?....No, she isn't frozen, she got out- she got _herself_ out just in time." He corrected himself and I gave a shaky smile, reaching for the nearly invisible Bluetooth.

 

Val hooked the device in my ear and then picked up speed.

 

He ran in a blur, the night air colder and colder against my skin.

 

"Khan?"

 

I heard a deep breath, a sigh, and knew it was him.

 

Everything fell apart- all the weeks stuck in that Observatory, I imagined I would be strong- I'd be steeled, hell, I'd even be a little angry for all the destruction Khan had paved in his pursuit-

 

"Khan," I sobbed, my tears were icy and made me shiver hard. "I'm okay, I'm here."

 

"You're bleeding," His voice was sepulchral, like it were lounging on a chaise.

When his timbre was emphasized like that- it always meant he was trying to swallow emotions too large for anyone to even chew.

 

A "danger zone" where Khan could do anything on a madman's whim.

 

"I had to scratch out the GPS microchip- how did you know I was-?"

 

"Satellite images," Khan answered, tone unaltered. "Speak up, beloved, it's difficult to hear you."  

 

I never doubted he would find me- even before I realized that escaping Chavez on my own was impossible. 

 

"I love you," I shouted into the earpiece, crying and hiccupping. "And we're pregnant, Khan, we're pregnant!"

 

" _Jānama?_ " His voice finally hitched, then broke- I could hear the tears in his voice, static shooting in and out. " Jānama, I can't hear you- fuck-! _Turn around!_ Turn around- I'm coming, beloved, I'm coming!   Joaquin-  _how_ the _fuck_ didn't you notice Chavez changed his-."

 

The wind was whipping loudly around us, carrying Khan's words further and further away from me. I tugged on Valerian's shirt, motioning for him to turn around.

 

"What's going on?! Khan, _take a breath,_ we're turning around we--." 

 

Val swung around on his heel and I had to throw my arms around his shoulders to keep from falling.

 

It couldn't have taken even five seconds for him to turn around.

 

But it was already too late.

I balanced again in Valerian's hold and repeated what I had wanted to tell Khan for the two months we'd been apart:

 

I cupped the tiny headset in my hand and brought it up to my lips. "We're pregnant! In a few minutes we'll be together and you'll see- well, not _see_ much yet- but _twins,_ Khan, we're having twins!"

 

I wish I hadn't removed the earpiece.

 

I never knew if he heard me.

 

Valerian was snatching glances of the sky then-

 

A bombing blast of merciless, white light.

It was like a horrific dream, a surreal repetition of the night at the Satluj-

 

But this helicopter was silent, hovering heavy and dark like a bleeding monster in the sky.

 

Val threw me to the ground and told me to run.

 

Four of Chavez's men swung down-

  
Valerian charged, claws out, eyes blazing, bellowing a growl-

 

Several other Lupines from his pack burst from the darkness.

 

The Augments and the Breeds* clashed.

 

Val tried to entangle all four of them himself, gunshots from weapons on both sides-

  
I didn't run.

I didn't run because I knew-

I knew from that night years ago.  
  
From the Satluj, to northern Africa* just six months ago-

 

Invisible walls.

 

It didn't matter where I ran.

 

I'd only risk the lives of the children inside me.

" _Khan!"_ I screamed into the earpiece. " _Chavez is-- help us! I can't do this- I- I -!"_

  
But I screamed louder when I saw the silver sword-

 

-and it was Helen who clutched it tightly in both hands-

 

- _Helen_ who had loved to gather feathers, make them into necklaces-

 

-she plunged the silver sword into Valerian's arched chest and dark blood, dark, black ichor spurted up into the forest night.

 

Suddenly Tony scooped me up, his claws accidentally scratching up my arms in his haste.

The Bluetooth had fallen from my hands, the last cobweb-tether to my husband-

 

I screamed again, screamed at Tony to put me down, to turn around, we'd go back, we'd fight- !

 

And I tried to tell him it didn't matter where we ran-

When Tony slowed in front of Chavez himself, concealed within the embrace of a tall, wild wall of buckthorns.

 

Rising up- these tears now were slow and hot.

 

"No," I shook my head, the warmth running down my cheeks. " _Damn you, Tony!_ You _mother-fucking piece of shit--!"_

 

Tony frowned, dropping me carelessly on the ground at Chavez's feet.

 

_< It wasn't an easy choice, Wrenne.>_

 

  
"That Gypsy rat prince dead?" Chavez asked him.

 

"You _said_ you would only cripple him," Tony spat.

 

"So the prince _is_ dead, good to know," Chavez cracked his knuckles in satisfaction, trying to mask his overwhelming glee for his own cleverness. "Thanks for 'Mrs. Singh', go back and pretend to fight alongside your friends." He looked over his shoulder and gestured to other soldiers waiting in the dark. "Enjoy being the Caravan Prince or Alpha Wolf or whatever _'order'_ it is you have with the rest of your dirty Breeds. Tell Lopez I'm on my way to conquer Belgium, roll it  _flat_ and salt the fucking earth whether _he_ is there or not."

 

But there Chavez's voice hitched and I read the longing, the loneliness inside him, twisted, tangled and hopelessly enmeshed with a black, sticky tar of hatred, of complex emotions...  

 

Chavez's men went to throw Tony out, retrieve me- and that's when I found my window.

 

 

 _Not_ to destroy Chavez, I just wasn't strong enough since Lopez had passed on my mental lessons-

 

But to destroy the man who killed my best friend, who tore me from the father of my children and doomed me to a cold death of a slumber in space--

 

Some sort of separate, impartial part of myself watched as I lunged between the reaching arms of Chavez's men and tackled Tony to the ground.

 

The ferocity of my blood lust wracked through my entire body.

 

"Wrenne-," Tony gasped, easily snatching my hands tightly in his grasp once he'd flipped over and pinned me down. "-Valerian was leading the whole _movement_ in the wrong direction- our _future-_ the Lupines, the Gypsies, the Augments too-- _all_ of us everywhere- they would have  destroyed us! We have a _birthright_ to claim and he was too much of a coward to inherit!"

 

I heard Chavez laughing at our futile tussle.

 

 

"Listen to me--," Tony continued, and now I held still, waiting- waiting for my second window. "Do you think it was easy for me to give away the life of my adopted son? I never knew they'd _kill_ him-- I was promised they'd only _cripple_ him-."

 

 _"I_ will cripple _you,_ you son of a bitch!" Such venom dripped from my words.

 

I found my second window and I took it.

 

Pressing my fingers into his temples, I cratered him.

 

My emotions were already so feral, unbound- finally rousing from all the sedatives Chavez had been piping into me-

 

I barely needed to target Tony at all. I jerked away, squeezing my eyes shut as his own eyes burst  and cratered.

 

My focus rippled and I heard several of Chavez's soldiers scream in pain.

 

When I opened my eyes, they were staggering, holding their heads, swaying and shaking as some cradled their faces and cratered eyes.

 

It was as if I were possessed by a demon.

Or a tiger.

 

 

I took Tony's face in my hands, staring into the empty, splattered sockets where his eyes used to be.

 

The craters didn't frighten me anymore.

I was already staring into the darkness of the coffin that was my future- small, tight, lonely- no children, no Khan, no more wabi-sabi daisies--

 

"I won't _kill_ you," I whispered in Tony's ear. "I'll just _'cripple'_ you."

 

I backed away, but Tony looked in my direction with those craters.

 

_Craters._

And I found myself distracted from the idea of my symbolic casket.

Instead, I found myself repulsed.

Repulsed by _myself._

 

Chavez had me now, pulling me backward, up onto my knees as he fished out another syringe to sedate me- make me too weak to escape, to fight, to crater anyone-

 

But suddenly, Tony started to scream.

 

I forced myself to look back at him.

  

 _Carving_ \- something was _carving_ into his skin-

   
I tried to stop it- I hadn't ordered it, I didn't want it-

But my emotions ran wild, their invisible thorns trailed blood down his forehead as there it was carefully carved-

 

_"Traitor"._

 

 

 

On his forehead- above the cratered eye sockets-

_"Traitor"._

 

 

Was it too late?

The tigress uncaged, bounding to ravage everything in sight-

 

I gasped from the pain of a thick needle piercing my neck.  
Felt the cold liquid enter my system-

 

Blur, blur, blur again.

 

I would've wanted my last words in the 21st century to be dramatic or cryptic, but the drugs hit me so hard, so fast, I managed a mumble probably only I could hear:

"Tiger."

 

Meanwhile my last thoughts:

_I wish I could have told him._

_  
"Khan, we're pregnant."_

And God forgive me for reveling. I wish I could forget- forget forever the thrilling blood lust I actually reveled in as I hovered over Tony's caverned, cratered eye sockets.

 

At least I'd been able to hear his voice- _Khan's_ voice before I died.

 

As I was turned back toward the Observatory, my sight smudged by the drugs-

 

(Who was carrying me?)

 

There was _fire_ eating at the Observatory-

Crumbling a crater into its dome-

 

Hope and fear leapt up in my heart.

 

How much destruction could one tigress cause?

 

Was this saving myself-

 

Or just pounding against invisible walls?

 

They were lifting me into the helicopter- _feeding_ me to this machine monster-

 

\---

_**(Weaving Stage X)**_

 

Blur, blur, blur.

The helicopter melted, smeared into this huge, black smog- black, bloody smog with jagged fangs dripping those sickening, globs of burst eyes dripping onto me- hot and soft like-

 

_Craters._

The mercenary's eyes.

Tony's eyes.

 

I didn't even know the color of his eyes.

I hadn't even noticed.

 

The black monster in the sky was lowering slowly, open mouthed- fangs about to close on me-

Screaming- someone was shouting-

 

"Miss Averly? Miss Averly!" Strong grip on my shoulders. "You're dreaming, Miss Averly- you're safe. You're safe."

 

I roused slowly from my nightmare but it clung to me like tar or quicksand.

 

I saw those eyes.

 

Those _cratered_ eyes I'd carved into skulls-

 

God, forgive me- God, _please_ , please forgive me-

 

Then I saw dark eyes- a gaze anchoring me-

 

Dark eyes tinged with light, golden spikes.

  
I felt the hairs all over my body rise, my skin tingle.

I was in Sick Bay, and a olive-skinned man was bending over me.

 

His long, silver hair falling around his shoulders, its touch grazing my breast.

 

Breath hitched in my lungs, my head still stuffed and dizzy from sleep.

 

"...K-Khan...?" I heard my voice come out as a tired whimper.

 

Blotched vision, still coming in and out of focus-

I was too weak, too exhausted to read anything from the old man hovering over me.

 

"It's Officer Milton, Miss Averly," he kept me anchored with his gaze. I was comforted by his firm grip on my shoulders. He hesitated, something warm and familiar trickling in, down my chest to my heart.

 

Then he straightened and backed away.

 "We're short-handed," Milton explained. "I'm a temporary, acting-security officer here with Officer Atch'axah."

 

I was back in Sick Bay, I reminded myself, but at least I wasn't handcuffed.

 

"You were screaming in your sleep," Atch'axah was standing at the foot of my bed with a steaming gray mug in her hands. "Doctor McCoy ordered us to keep your stress as low as possible after the Rec..."

 

"Those people-!" I cried, the shock jolting through my system.

 

Scraps, like scraps of paper flashed in my mind-

 

_/despair, hopeless, sorrow_

_doubt, insecurity, self-hate,_

_death, anguish, misery,_

_gloom---/_

 

_Glassy, deep eyes._

_Meteor shower in the background._

_"Show me how to help, Miss Averly."_

I gasped for breath, pulling myself out of the crew's past emotions.

 

"Do not think of it too much," Atch'axah advised, sliding a lap table over the bed as she set down the gray, earthy mug. "Know you have saved them, you and- Commander Spock."

 

_/admiration, respect, arousal/_

 

My senses were coming back to me.

 

(How cute she fancied the elven man who was practically made of stone!)

 

"So- they're all okay?" I could feel myself shaking and I wished Milton would turn away from me. Something about him flared and twirled my perception into confusion.

"They're safe," Milton assured me.

His voice made an unsettling cold trickle down my spine.  
My skin seemed to vibrate to the timbre of his voice.

 

I reached out to read him-

-and I bumped into a strong barrier.

 

He had mental-defense training.

 

Watch him carefully, I thought to myself, watch him without _'watching'_ him...

 

Milton moved back to his post at the end of my bed.

 

"You saved them," Atch'axah repeated.

 

I covered my face, sighed and released the burden, the worry, the guilt all in my breath.

 

"G-good...What- what is this?" I asked, taking the mug in hand and sniffing the steam.

 

A scent earthy but pleasant like sage, hint of flower like lavender-

 

"Thas'inala," She answered. "Many a'dilei- _'empaths'_ \- are born among my people. This is a tea that soothes the mind, quiets the espers and vespers that cling to your kind. The doctor approved, and I have a list of the ingredients, if you wish to review them-." Atch'axah reached for a tablet nearby.

 

"No, no- that's okay," I waved a hand. "I trust-."

 

I stopped as I heard the word.

 

Weird world, floating in space, I reminded myself.

Sort of sounded like a Beatles' song.

 

"Th-thank you," I traded. "...could I have something for my nausea, please?" I breathed in the steam from the tea, finding it rather soothing to my stomach, but I didn't want to take a chance of throwing up.

 

"Of course," Atch'axah turned away and when I looked back up, she had two more of those little strips. "Place upon the tongue," She instructed again.

 

"Doctor?" Milton was speaking into a black device that looked like a combination of a walkie-talkie and a cell phone.

 

"McCoy," a voice answered.

 

"Just informing you Miss Averly is awake."

 

"Alright, good- is she talking?"

 

"Yes, talking and functioning fine, sir."

 

"I'll be right there," McCoy spoke, then after a beeping sound, Milton closed his device.

 

I wondered if there was a way I could request this Milton to go away- to have a different officer, or just Atch'axah-

It seemed like all my synapses sparked defensive and frantic when I heard his voice, saw his eyes, the wrinkles around his lips-

 

Tentatively, I took a sip of the Thas'inala tea.

 

Earth, almost actual _dirt-_ but it was a pleasant taste.

Water so soft on my tongue, tasting hearty with a twinge of bitter like I had bit into a garden leaf.

 

It _was_ soothing, but I doubted it would have a long-term affect.

 

I closed my eyes and let the sensation of the tea's scent, its taste, its texture all spread through my senses, wash away the frantic sparks, the worry, the tar-sticky nightmares.

 

I woke again when the Sick Bay doors swished open and I realized the Thas'inala had swayed me gently into a light slumber or meditation.

 

A strange, comforting sensation of being...gathered.

All of myself gathered and accounted for.

 

McCoy had been the one who had come in, his forehead wrinkled in that familiar way that made me worry for him.

 

_/stress, relief, exhaustion/_

I could read him, but his emotions didn't slice into my heart, masquerading as _my_ emotions.

Was it because of the tea?

 

"Wrenne," the doctor sighed, coming to my bedside and placed a comforting hand on mine. "You saved over thirty lives yesterday."

 

He looked at me differently.

 

The spark in his usual speech, his usual gaze was much warmer.

 

"We owe you a lot," He smiled.

 

I looked down at my lap.

 

"I'm just glad I-I could fix it."

 

McCoy retrieved that weird health-wand and waved it over me again.

 

"Still feeling weak?" He asked.

 

I nodded.

 

"Nausea?"

 

"Yes, but- the officer gave me the medicine for-for that," I curled my fingers tightly around the bed's blanket. "Doctor, you need to get me off this ship before I kill someone." I paused to take a shivering breath. "I can't be in such a confined space with- my emotions. I'll drive people insane."

 

"Ah, Short-Circuits happen. They're manageable. Have you had Short-Circuits a lot in the past?" McCoy asked, unfazed by my statement.

 

"A lot of what?"

 

"'Short-Circuits', extroverted empathic bursts," He explained, gesturing with his hand. "Shorting out a circuit, so to speak. Your feelings violently affecting others."

 

"...I can usually control it."

 

"Well, you got a wallop of a shock yesterday, what with..." He lightly rubbed my belly. "...it makes sense." the doctor gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Shere, would you bring me the general record over there?"

 

I instantly stiffened.

 _Shere?_ Had he said " _Shere"_?

 

Milton was staring at me intently, lost in thought.

He looked nearly as stiff with shock as I was.

 

"Shere?" McCoy gave him a strange look. "You alright?"

 

 

"Yes- sorry, sir, of course," He nodded and disappeared behind a screen at the far end of the room.

 

_Shere._

_Shere Milton?_

 

_-_

 

_"I can't choose one," I threw my hands up in the air. "...I guess- not counting the greats- Shakespeare, you know what I mean- I would have to say Steinbeck. I love Steinbeck."_

 

 _"_ He _is fascinating," Khan smiled, leaning back with one hand on the car's steering wheel._  

 

_"Do you have a favorite author yet?" I asked. "Do you think you've read enough to choose one?"_

 

_"Absolutely: John Milton*. Milton would be my favorite."_

-

 

I couldn't stop shaking.

It was all too weird, too surreal.

 

"Doctor, who is that-that other officer?" I asked, my teeth nearly chattering.

 

"Take deep breaths now, Wrenne, what's wrong?" McCoy looked at me with concern, trying to decipher me.

 

" _Who is that officer?"_ I demanded.

 

"Milton? A free-contracted engineer for down in the nuclear core. He was in the Rec when you helped the crew."

 

_I know him._

_I know him, somehow I know him._

 

I was so pre-occuppied with this reading (and trying to argue with it), that I started when I noticed Spock standing beside the doctor at my bedside.

 

_/.../_

 

He watched me for a small moment before turning his attention to the large, thin tablet Milton had brought.

 

"Just a moment, Wrenne," McCoy said, then turned to Spock.

 

"Helen will be fine, of course, we patched her up, Mr. Scott too. It was easy, by-the-book. Count ourselves lucky on this one..." McCoy commented, gesturing for Spock to follow him to what must be the doctor's office at the far end of the room, behind a partial wall with a small window.

 

All my senses were finally waking up! I could hear the doctor and Spock talking from this distance- 

 

I could hear parts in the wall and the floor whisper-whirring as they moved precisely-

 

I could smell a scent like coffee and a scent of floral perfume coming from the hallway.

 

I wanted to find a window- porthole, periscope, whatever- to discover how far out I could see into the black embrace of space.

 

My senses were never as heightened as Khan and real Augments, but they would be more than enough to help me survive here...

 

I focused harder on Spock.

 

Now that my perception was stronger, maybe-

_/.../_

 

Oh well. 

 

I could hear the mumbled conversation between him and McCoy all the way in his office, but I couldn't make out a single emotion Spock was feeling?

 

I was going to turn my attention on reading Milton when I overheard the doctor say:

 

"...and dammit, Spock, the serotonin was  _perfectly_ normal two weeks ago at her usual check-up. Same with the others' who had examinations then- fairly healthy, nothing to write home about- but now _every_ crewman on board the ship has low serotonin, especially those who were in the Rec that day... some of these levels are _dangerously_ low."

 

" _Every_ crewman," Spock specified carefully. "Except for us."

  
" _Exactly_."

 

McCoy:

 

_/confusion, frustration, wariness  
nervous, sad, pensive/_

  
"You, me, Lore'lei, Shere, and Jim. Not a single change," McCoy continued. "You saw Shere and the captain _in_ the Rec- Scott was in there no more than ten minutes before it got him- but Shere and Jim weren't Short-Circuited  _at all_. You and Lore'lei...that makes _some_ sense, you both have a lifetime of mental and emotional discipline from your cultures- but it's still a stretch. So how the hell does that explain Shere, Jim, and me?"

 

"I don't exactly know how emotions move through the atmosphere, doctor."

 

Smartass, I thought with a small smile though the extent of my affects on the crew seemed to weigh me down, pressing me into the mattress.

 

"Fuck it all," I heard the doctor slam down his fist.   " _stop_ making jokes! A man is _dead,_ Spock! One of _our own men_..."

 

"...You had announced there were no casualties."

 

Wait-- the smallest hint of surprise vibrated from Spock.

 

"Well, now there are," McCoy answered.

 

_/responsibility, guilt, grief  
burden, regret-/_

 

I gripped the sheets tightly.

 

"Officer Ruan hanged himself in his quarters. Estimated time of death 0636 yesterday. After he missed his shift, Valda- that's Lieutenant Ekstrom- went to check on him and instead she found his body."

 

I fell back onto the mattress and shrunk under the covers like a child.  
I put my fingers in my ears.

  
Maybe I should ask them to sedate me- at least somewhat until-

 

Until what?

 

Until your official hearing or- or some kind of trial?

 

Until you plead guilty to being married to a man who's been dead for over two hundred years?

Or causing a man to commit suicide...?

 

And our children- _my_ children...

 

 

I felt tears well up in my eyes.

 

What would they do with _them?_ Take them away from me-? To some fancy building like IIT's, my babies- their lives full of syringes, testing, as-as--

 

_-subjects._

 

 _"Our children will have the luxury of choosing their_ own _path."_

 

Oh Khan, I thought as I closed my eyes tightly. Help me, what do I do?

 

"Miss Averly."

 

Timbre and tone.

Like Khan's.

And I hated Milton for it.

 

"Leave me alone," I replied

 

Nice, nice and assertive, I thought proudly to myself.

 

A large, tanned hand pulled the covers down to my shoulders.

 

I was so surprised he moved down the blankets that I just stared up at him like an idiot.

 

Dark color brought out the whites of his eyes. His pupils crowned with those golden spikes.

 

Thick, black eyebrows.

 

That long, silver mane was held back loosely by a thick but short red ribbon.

 

Small wrinkles scattered here and there- but barely visible.

 

His gaze held onto mine, and as much as I struggled I couldn't break free from that hold.

 

"You'll be alright," He spoke slowly and purposefully, taking my hand in his. " _Everything_ will be alright." His voice sounded strange, tight- were  _tears_ rising from his eyes?

 

I felt like there was a rain stick turning over, trickling and tickling the back of my mind but nothing came.

 

" _Leave me alone!_ " My voice came out as a whimper when it should have been full of venom, anger.

 

"It's _obvious_ ," His eyes pleaded with me, ran his fingers up along my cheek. "Look, just  _look..._ "

  
What was he talking about?

 

I slapped his hand away.

 

"You're confused _, old man_ ," I turned on my side, away from him.

 

He was too attractive for his age.

He was too handsome _period._

 

There was a strange fluttering sensation somewhere in my stomach. 

The baby- the twins?

 

I couldn't be far enough along to feel them moving could I?*

 

Running a hand along my abdomen, I felt a rather small, swollen mound.

It was small, barely there.

 

But it was all I had now.

 _They_ were all I had.  
 

 

"Doctor?" I called out, feeling Milton's gaze on my back.

 

"Just a minute, Wrenne," McCoy replied.

 

I realized I was cradling my belly.

 

 

All I had.

 

I heard the doctor's footsteps come closer and closer but I couldn't bring myself to turn around. 

"How-," I swallowed. "How far--." I couldn't finish

 

McCoy came around to my side, leaning against the bed rail.

 

He _was_ calming- a lot of good bedside manner.

Or maybe it was Spock's Vulcan thing.

 

I was surprised to find a chuckle pop out of my mouth, a soft, tired one.

 

The corner of McCoy's lips tweaked upward in a small smile, bemused.

 

"You're the first doctor I've ever _not_ hated," I pinched the bridge of my nose, chuckling at the absurd fact that I was chuckling in the first place. "The first doctor I've liked, that I've trusted..."

 

"Generous compliment," His blue eyes seemed to twinkle with mischievous humor. "Lore'lei, Shere, would you give us a minute?"

 

They both left, and as Milton walked away I forced myself to keep my gaze from his even though I felt him give me once last glance before passing through the automatic doors.

 

I shifted my focus to distract myself.

  
The doctor was complex and bizarre: one minute, he'd seem so old, so sad, so tired- then the next- amused, puckish, full of life.

 

Finally I managed to ask, comforted as I reminded myself that despite the strange world I was in- the foreign, possibly corrupt government they served- I liked Doctor McCoy.

 

I _liked_ him, despite everything, despite the fact he was a doctor.

 

I finally asked, "I- How...far along am I?" My voice was stronger than I expected.

 

McCoy sighed thoughtfully, rubbing a hand against his forehead.

 

"Well, my scans show you're 15 weeks along and in your second trimester."

 

"What- what does that mean?"

 

"15 weeks since your last menstrual cycle, that's a bit over three months. I'd show you a visual scan, but our ship's...working off of batteries right now- can't spare the energy." He let go of the bed rail and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he considered the situation. "I guess 15 weeks is technically an _'estimate'_ since we don't know exactly how long you were pregnant _before_ you were frozen...I don't suppose you recall any dates yet?"

  
"2009," I didn't realize I had spoken until I heard my own voice.

 

His eyebrows flew up.

 

"Are you positive?"

 

The calm spreading through me should have tipped me off.  
I had forgotten Spock was even there.

 

I threw up my mental defenses, but I noticed I wasn't as anxious or angry around him as I was before.

 

I sat up- then the bed automatically rose and sat up with me so I could recline.

 

Spock was on my left bedside and McCoy on my right.

  
It was getting a little crowded- I wanted as few people as possible to know I was pregnant- but I seemed to feel more comfortable around them than before.

 

"I'm sure," I answered. "I-It came to me last night- the memory, I mean. I don't remember how far along I was with- um- the pregnancy....but it was 2009. It was the-the end of autumn in 2009. I thought at first- that it was, um, snowing- but it was ash from the...fire...The observatory was-"

 

"If we continue speaking off the record," Spock spoke loudly over me. "The captain, the good doctor, and I will be taken off your interrogation because the investigation will be considered compromised. I would very much advise you to keep us on your case. I would like to help you."

 

More glances of the meteor shower I'd seen that first day, that meteor shower behind a field of snow.

Spock exchanged a look with McCoy.

 

_/Leave please, I'll tell her now./_

 

  
"I have some paperwork," the doctor sighed, straightening and giving me a pat on the leg as he passed the foot of the bed. "And I'll be sure to find the record I took of your pregnancy so you can see it yourself. Press the button there, it will call our head nurse who can immediately reach me as well."

 

I leaned over and grabbed his arm.

"Thank you, doctor." I bit my lip, I bit my tongue, held back the stupid tears that loved to show. "Thank you for- for treating me like a human being and taking care of..."

 

"You're _my_ patient," McCoy smiled, covering my hand with his. There was that sparkle in his light blue eyes but-

 

_/sadness, concern, burden/_

Spock waited for the doctor to leave the room before speaking.

 

I sat stiff with awkwardness. 

 

  
"How much do you recall from last night?" Spock finally asked, seating himself in a chair by the bed.

 

  
"...It's a blur," I thought carefully, feeling a little on edge. "I remember you helped me...that the we managed to...fix things..."

 

"You asked me to hold onto something for you," He leaned forward in his chair.

 

"...Hold onto what?" I looked at him, confused.

 

I didn't have any possessions except for whatever I was wearing when they found me.

 

And I guess the barf-covered hospitality items in that Brig drawer.

 

" _Memories_ from yesterday," Spock explained. "You were very weak, you told me you needed less weight, and you gave the memories to me."

 

I shuffled uncomfortably;  regarding him, studying him.

 

"When we first met, _you_ went inside _my_ mind when my guard was down," I was shaking, my lips pursed as I tried to anchor the anger and hurt before it shot off in a wild direction. "and smudged up one of my-my most _intimate_ moments with my _dead_ husband- _smudged_ it up with your mental fingerprints!"

  
"I can only ask your forgiveness for that," He straightened into his usual stance. "I crossed a line of sacred privacy and it was not my intention."

 

I opened my mouth to angrily comment on his _obvious_ lack of compassion or _any_ kind of emotion when-

 

_/ sincerity. /_

 

I stared at Spock in shock.

It was a very strong vibration of sincerity with the smallest hint of remorse.

 

"...Thank you," I replied.

 

"And if it is any conciliation, I saw very little. Your mental abilities are beyond anything that has ever been recorded in the Human race. I will tell you what I read from you, if that would help us reconcile."

 

_/ sincerity. /_

 

Unbelievable- the emotion was like a stream of pure electricity.

 

"No, no...um, actually-."

 

I paused: did I _really_ want to know if he'd seen a memory of me making love with my husband?

 

He didn't look like a pervert- he didn't give off that reading.

 

"...No, let's just- forget it," I flushed.

 

Spock nodded.

 

"I am still holding what you gave me," He mentioned again. "Do you want it back?"

 

 _/_ _... /_

 

Damn.

I guess it was a one-time thing.

 

"Do I want a mystery memory-box containing who knows what?" I laid back against the mattress, running my hands down my face. "I remember everyone was Shorting- 'short-circuiting," I tried to use the lingo. "-Your captain was angry with me _again_ \- I couldn't pull out all the despair on my own, that's when you helped..." I looked at Spock from the corner of my eye. "You are...pretty incredible to learn all that in just a moment. You've really never done that before? Brought someone up to steadiness again?"

 

"I have never experienced that side of it, no," He answered. "Somehow we managed to...alter their emotions...?"

 

"No- well, sort of," I chewed on my thumbnail, my other hand wandering back to my belly. "We weren't planting an 'original' emotion- one they weren't _already_ feeling- we just pulled them all back into alignment with their cores, their souls- reality."

 

"And if we had not?"

 

"They all would have killed themselves," I felt a hot tear roll down from the corner of my eye. "...or imploded. They would have died. I'm sorry I killed that- Officer Ruan- I- I-." A sob hitched out of me and I covered my mouth to try to catch it, keep it in. "-I did the best I could."

 

"You saved our _entire_ crew, Wrenne."

 

But there was still one man dead. One mother and father getting news that they'd never see their son again. Lovers and children that would never-

 

I pulled myself out of the spiral.

 

"Okay, give me whatever it is I asked you to hold," I pushed away the tears. "This isn't my area of expertise- um- should I close my eyes or...?" My cheeks burned, embarrassed by my tears and ignorance.

 

I'd never had the chance to meet someone who knew as much- maybe _more_ \- than I did about these mental abilities.

 

"Take my hand," Spock reached out his arm. "and focus on my presence. Clear your mind."

 

I went to hold his hand (it seemed green-tinged, what the hell?) when he guided my fingers to graze the tips of his own and rest there.

 

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

 

He _had_ apologized, but I still felt uneasy as I closed my eyes.

 

"Could use some of that calm juice about now," I chuckled awkwardly.

 

"I do not necessarily control that effect," He replied. "However, if you have been sensing it before, you will sense it again."

 

"Then how do you do it? And how do you mask your emotions from me?"

 

It seemed easier to ask the hard questions in the darkness, eyes closed.

 

"We- _Vulcans_ , not _elves_ ," Spock spoke with a hint of humor, tongue-in-cheek.

 

I laughed before he could continue.

 

"I assume your readings are confused by the practice of meditation and the repression of emotion. My people believe more in the pursuit of logic."

 

"Why- wait, you can't feel anything?"

 

"Not _quite_ so," He explained. "I have _command_ over my emotions."

 

"That sounds...nice."

 

It'd be nice to be in control of my feelings- but repression? I wanted to ask if he could really enjoy life that way, but I didn't want to offend his lifestyle or philosophy or whatever it was.

 

"Are you ready?" He asked.

 

I focused on clearing my mind- cleaning away the cords, threads, strings, vibrations of emotions I felt from the various people on the ship.

 

_Mortar, brick._

_Mortar, brick._

  
That Vulcan wave of calm came and I sighed in relief.

 

He apologized, he apologized,  I reminded myself, he was worried about his crew and did something stupid. It was understandable.  

Spock seemed honorable, reliable- McCoy trusted him, and though I could read that they tended to butt heads, I could also sense that they were friends.

 

I took in the peaceful aura like water.

 

"Okay, go ahead," I murmured, feeling the soft texture of his fingertips against mine.

 

\-----

 

People were lying on the floor, hiding in corners, leaning against the wall.

 

Wailing, crying, murmuring regrets.

 

The old man in the red uniform (Milton, I knew now) helped me step carefully around the agonized bodies.

 

Shit, why did Milton's touch feel so strange-? All the hairs on my arms sparked erect.

 

But I didn't have time to focus on him- the despair in the room was so extreme it was practically a volcano erupting and I was bombarded with fiery boulders.

 

I fell backward, my body weak and ravaged by the worries, the doubts, the grief--

 

Spock caught me.

 

"What the _hell_ did you do?" Kirk demanded, anger shooting from his aura.

 

Dammit, this was a pile-up of crises- the captain was deep in the irrational- near madness- effect of the Augment Blood in his veins-  

 

"I-I didn't-didn't-," I could barely speak, overwhelmed by readings and emotions.

 

"It's a Short-Circuit, Jim," McCoy explained. "Her reactions- feelings- have spread to the crew. She can fix it."

 

"I can't- do-I-I can't-."

 

I managed to heave some air into my lungs.

 

Focus, _focus_ , dammit-

 

I wobbled again, falling to the ground and this time Milton's arms steadied me, carrying me to a purple chair.

 

I was going to faint- _shit_ , I was going to faint and all these people were going to die- commit suicide, self-destruct--

 

\--because _I_ was a ticking time-bomb.

 

 

"Wrenne," Milton's voice was so deep, so much like Khan's that it snapped me to attention.

He gently took my cheek in his hand.

 

"Wrenne, _you can do this_ ," He said, holding my gaze, his stare intense.

I felt stronger, more awake-

 

"I need help- I've never carried this many people-," I managed.

 

"Show me," Spock stood at my side. "and I will help."

 

" _You!"_ Litige lunged toward me but Milton was quicker, holding her back with such ferocity it sent emotional vibrations over the gloom and despair exploding in the room.

 

"You took my husband from me!" Litige yelled. "Your _monster_ of a-."

 

Spock approached her and pinched a specific spot on her shoulder.

 

Her eyes rolled back and closed, her body fell limp and Spock gently laid her down.

 

 

_Blur, blur, blur._

 

 

We were pulling- Spock and I- pulling, pulling them out of the black hole that was whipping the crew away-

 

 

_Blur, blur, blur._

 

 

Steady, finally- they were all _finally_ steady- 

I leaned against the wall and sunk down to sit.

 

"They'll- they'll be okay now," I panted, keeping hold on Spock's hand. "They'll be alright- still- sad- but it will pass...no more mortal-mortal danger..."

 

"Gareb," Litige stood, covering her face with her hands. "For you, Gareb- if I could- I'd find Singh's cryo-tube and _bash_ it to bits- he should _never_ wake again..."

 

The room instantly lurched tight.

 

McCoy watched me.

 

Kirk stared down at the ground.

 

"'Cryo-tube'," I heard my voice but didn't feel my tongue speak. "... _'never...wake...again'? AGAIN?"_

 

I found strength to stand, anger's ferocity causing my body to tremble violently.

 

Spock was saying something- but I pushed him away.

 

" _Don't_ touch me!" I screamed. "My husband is _alive?_ He's _alive_ and you didn't tell me! _What the fuck is wrong with you people?_ "

 

\--

 

 _"Only for our_ absolute _last option," Khan explained, running a hand down the coffin-like tube. "I'm having them work on our last option: we'll leave. We'll sleep. We'll wait for a better world."_

 

\--

 

Sobs wracked my body.

 

" _Get me out of here_ ," I demanded. "Get me _out_ of here before they catch another- another ' _Short-Circuit'_ -."

 

_Blur, blur, blur, blur, blur._

 

" _Yes_ , he's alive!" Kirk confirmed, slamming his fist on the desk. "And you know what? They _found_ him, woke him up- and he _opened fire on innocent men and women!_ He _killed_ countless people- crushed a man's  _skull_ in his bare hands-  _purposefully crashed a war ship into San Francisco!"_

 

"Captain-," Spock took his shoulder. "Later-."

 

When would McCoy return-? I wanted _out-_ I needed out of here-- 

 

"Ever heard of _San Francisco_ , Miss Averly?" the captain continued, shaking off Spock's hand. "Or did they _not_ have that in your fucking 'Stone Age'- while your _'husband'_   forged the _third World War!_  He nearly _destroyed_ this crew _and_ myself! Members of _my_ crew _died_ when he tried to blow this ship to _rubble!"_

 

" _I_ didn't kill anyone, you son of a bitch!" I cried, new tears running along the ones that had dried on my cheeks. "You think _I_ would have done that? Why the fuck should _I_ be punished for loving my husband!"

 

But it still shook through me.

Innocent men and women.

 

The madman's whim had overtaken him- he had blazed a trail of fire and destruction- 

 

_Blur, blur._

_Blur, blur, blur._

 

\-----

 

My eyes shot open.

Hands instantly cradling my belly, my babies- my twins inside.

 

"He's alive," I whispered. "He's _alive_."

 

_**{ Continued in Weaving Stage XI: Bound }**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation and Notes:
> 
> \---Lado, 'sweetie' or 'dear' in Hindi.
> 
> \---Mera chanda, "my sweet little moon" in Hindi; an endearment often used for children.
> 
> \---Breeds and Lupines, to be explained later in the story. But if you don't want to wait, click [SPOILER](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VtpLTsyrU8x6EoS_mfQrI9_-N1P3ecVpK1TwyIYMz_4/edit?usp=sharing). 
> 
> \---Northern Africa: here I wanted to make an allusion to Jonathan Archer's great-grandfather who, in the original timeline, was in a battalion in this area. He managed to hold off the enemies' fire until a school near the battlefield could be evacuated. (Source: ENT, "Hatchery")
> 
> \---John Milton; in WoK, Khan quotes "Moby Dick" by Herman Melville and "Paradise Lost" by John Milton.
> 
> \---"Fluttering in the stomach": I've never been pregnant myself, but I did a lot of research on the experience. I read that some of the earliest sensations of movement from the baby is described as a "fluttering" sensation.  
> Mothers, please, please correct me if I'm wrong on any of this stuff xD
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> Looong chapter! But now she knows... -dun, dun, DUNNN- This chapter was exhausting. The first few pages came out in minutes, then I was stuck for a few weeks...finally the past few days I've been writing the rest like a crazy woman xD
> 
> So the Russian mercenary- wanted to explain why Etta calls him a "Soviet": alternate timeline, alternate history. The USSR is still going in the early 21st century.
> 
> Gave McCoy some more face-time because I love him so much- love how Kelley portrayed him, love his character ^^
> 
> It may seem counter-intuitive for Wrenne to feel more comfortable around McCoy and Spock before she recovers her memory of discovering Khan is alive, so let me explain: the memory is literally out of Wrenne's head, some of the burden and pressure taken off so it's easier for her to feel comfortable with them.
> 
> Oh, just wanted to clear the air too with Spock invading a few memories of Wrenne's- obviously, with Vulcan culture he understands how serious and somewhat wrong his decision was to enter deep into her mind without her permission, but he had a pretty good reason in my opinion. I wanted to put in some closure on that conflict between Wrenne and Spock.
> 
> Since emotions are so entwined in Wrenne's life, I thought it'd be interesting for Spock to explain how opposite the Vulcans are.
> 
> Hope I'm not beating a dead horse with Officer "Milton" ^^;; I'm just trying to present Wrenne's perception of him...
> 
> So! Onto chapter- 11? Holy crap, how'd we get so far along? Well, thanks so much for reading! Shout-out to Sassiebone for her help, support, and friendship- you rock, mon amie! <3
> 
> As always, feel free to leave suggestions and constructive criticism. 
> 
> Now, what will happen since Wrenne knows Khan is alive...?


	11. Weaving Stage XI: Fragility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk's condition progresses as his abilities become more augmented. Meanwhile there's more unrest among the crew outside Wrenne's Sick Bay room- and the cause is a mysterious agitator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { Dedicated with love to the memory of Leonard Nimoy. Rest in peace, Mr. Spock. You were a dedicated, gifted actor and writer who opened my imagination and motivated my creativity. You have and always will be our friend <3 }
> 
> \----------------------------------
> 
> Chapter rating: Teen 
> 
> Trigger warnings: strong language

**__ **

_{ Weaving Stage XI: Bound }_  
_  
_

"How's it coming?" Leonard asked, entering the examination room.

 

Kirk didn't answer. He kept his focus on the black screen in front of him which was altering the physical commands.

 

The baton device firmly in his hands, he swung it like a baseball bat, feeling the weight hardly  lag against his strength.

 

_Pull._

 

Jim pulled the bar toward his chest.

 

_Step left._

 

The black conveyor moved rapidly but he easily caught the rising steps, pressing them down with his feet.

 

_Run._

 

  
The treadmill's steps lowered and the path was even again.

 

_Stop._

 

The fitness machine's commands were coming much more rapidly now.

  
  
Step up- step down- pull up-

_Step right- step down-_

_Pull down, pull left-_

 

A red laser light ran across Kirk's body, then his list of vitals and information flashed onto the doctor's tablet.

  
McCoy ran a hand across his chin.

 _No perspiration_ , he observed, watching the captain closely. _Heart rate 102?_

It should be at least 150...

 

"Okay, Jim, let's give it a rest," Bones exited the vital list and tapped the button to end the fitness examination.

 

Kirk eagerly jumped off the compact machine but didn't bother to grab a towel or a glass of water.

He stared off, keeping his back turned on McCoy.

 

That was all too easy.

 

He'd _never_ reached level 38 on fitness- that's passed 500 pounds.

 

And he definitely didn't want to look at Bones.

 

The usual pucker of his lips and his eyes hard with concern, _judgment._

 

"What's the damage?" Jim asked, his voice firm.

 

"How are the hallucinations?" McCoy countered.

 

"We need an acting captain," Jim easily ducked under the question. "I can't  perform my duties this way."

 

He flipped open his comm: "Kirk to Spock."

 

"Acknowledged, captain," came the reply.

 

"I need you as acting-captain. You know why."

 

"Yes, captain," Spock responded easily. "Should there be an announcement or will we keep this as emergency procedure?"

 

Kirk felt pride stir and growl restlessly inside him.

"...Emergency procedure for now," he finally ordered. "Spock, are you still with Averly? Is she awake?"

 

"Yes, captain."

 

"So she knows," Jim nodded. "Would've expected more damage by now."

 

"She _did_ break the lavatory handle," Spock made a throat-clearing sound that Kirk knew was actually a Spock-laugh sound. "Miss Averly locked herself in..."

 

"The bathroom is _right beside_ her bed, Spock!" McCoy scowled.

 

"I managed to manually override the automatic locks, but as I said, she has broken off the handle in a way which-."

 

"You were supposed to restrain her, Spock!" Kirk grumbled aggressively. " _And_ keep Officer Atch'axah with Averly! _Restrain_ Averly and _supervise_ her."

 

"I was _momentarily_ incapacitated. I had prepared restraints for after I-."

 

"Well, you were too damn late, then weren't you?!" Kirk snapped.

 

"Jim," Bones stepped next to him. "Take breaths, alright? What harm can she do in a bathroom? There's only one way out and she's at least three months pregnant. Wrenne won't be hard to catch. It's just a matter of time."

 

"The situation is under control _and_ supervision, captain," Spock's agitated tone was obvious. "Officer Milton managed to slip inside between the manual-override and the handle being broken. He can keep her under _continue_ to keep her under supervision...and possibly persuade her to come out on her own."

  
"What's her room? 4-N? I'm on my way- last act before I place you as acting-captain, Spock. I'm handling this myself," Kirk declared.

  
"Jim-."

 

"Kirk out," Before Spock could finish, Kirk slapped his comm closed so hard its hinges cracked and broke.

 

"Dammit!" He cursed, throwing the device against the wall as he moved toward the doors out of the exam room.

 

Bones followed, nudging him with his shoulder.

  
"Jim, come on, you _know_ you're not thinking rationally right now!" Leonard rebuked, but the captain easily brushed him off. " _Would you fucking listen to me?!_ What are you going to do- ram the door down? Spock could do that himself! You know what's going to end up happening if you keep chasing your damn tail?! You're going to hurt yourself or...someone else."

 

"The fuck I am!" Jim snapped. "I'm keeping it under control- giving Spock command while I watch myself go _insane-_ and why now? Why over two years since the blood transfusion?"

  
"I don't know," Bones sighed, leaning against the door frame. "Wrenne told us what she knows-." Kirk scoffed. "-that this is _not_ insanity, it's the effects of Khan's blood," McCoy spoke in a more soothing tone. "Temporary paranoia, _temporary_ psychotic episodes-."

 

Kirk grabbed a nearby towel and wrung it between his hands, reaching and pulling to find his usual self.

"...the purer the sample, the easier the transition, the sooner the symptoms stop," Bones finished.

 

The sounds of the medical devices- McCoy's breathing- the smell of food from the mess hall, the cup of coffee on the table- it all bombarded his senses.

  
"We need a tighter watch on this girl now that she knows her Khan is out there. If she manages to contact him- we saw what he was willing to do for 72 of his people, I could only imagine what the maniac would do for his wife..."

"But we don't have the men for extra security- most of the crew is still on _much_ -needed medical rest from that madness in the Rec," McCoy put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "We can find another way, Jim. Leave her with Spock, Lore'lei, and the engineer, they'll handle her. I don't think she's as big a threat as we thought before."

"Bull shit," He murmured. "Underestimating Khan is what killed practically killed me _and_ the ship...not going to make the same mistake with _'Mrs. Khan'._ " Kirk paused, struggling with the words: "...I'm placing myself under arrest and retaining myself to my quarters after I settle this new drama with Averly- so I do _not_ hurt myself-," he pushed Leonard aside- and it nearly threw the doctor off his feet. "...or others."Kirk put his forehead in his hand before recovering. "Spock will be acting-captain, so refer to him for orders but keep me updated. And Bones..."

Jim turned back toward his friend who watched him with concern.

 _Concern, no irritation_ , Kirk noted to himself. _No crotchety-doctor act._

The severity of the situation was heavy on both of them.

"...we'll put our minds to this," McCoy smiled reassuringly, taking Jim's shoulder. "I treated the _real_ Khan, brought you _and_ a tribble back to life, among other accomplishments in my medical career..." 

Jim gave a faint grin but couldn't keep the anchoring fears away.

"Why are their symptoms _now_ and what is a- strong but _reasonable_ way to deal with Averly-" He rubbed his temples as a hammering headache started growing. "-just pop her in the freezer like the others? _"_ He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, turning away and walking down the corridor. "What did they even _do_ with the Botany Bay torpedo-people?"

" _'Classified'_ ," McCoy snorted his disapproval as he joined Kirk in walking to the lift. "Which means they're _not_ dead-."

"-and they _could_ be in the same damn cryo-tubes- they may have just re-packaged them all like stale food-- Sick Bay Private Rooms-," Jim ordered to the elevator and it took off with a whisper-whirring that still managed to further pierce his growing headache- all the sounds no one ever knew were there. "- I know the situation is fucking complicated, but if the Federation keeps up this indecisiveness...twenty-something years later, Khan's going to be up and around again- _Could you cut that out?_ " He tried to swat away Bones's tricorder.

"It seems these fits of anger come in waves, raising your blood pressure to a dangerous level..." the doctor murmured to himself. "...and then your usual self takes the wheel again, blood pressure back to normal..."

"Did you hear _anything_ I just said?"

" _Yes_ ," Bones answered irritably, glancing down at the tricorder's readings. "The government's style of 'just let the cookies cool'... Frankly, I think no one wants to seriously consider executing them _or_ putting them on trial or in prison...which _may_ beour only options..."

"And why is that? Khan killed hundreds of people. They must have _at least_ imprisoned him..."

McCoy mumbled something.

"Speak up, Bones," Jim went to playfully elbow him in the ribs but remembered his broken communicator and thought better of it.

"Cold Station 12*," He specified.

"It's been some time since history class," Kirk sighed, then, thinking aloud, "Admiral Archer and crew....Augments...they had to fire on the station, Arik Soong's death...the embryos!" He realized. "Fuck, I hadn't even thought- the _'classified'_ frozen embryos that 'didn't exist'-."

Was someone shouting? He could hear a chorus of voices, rumbling louder and louder as the lift descended.

" _Augment_ embryos from the Eugenics Wars," Leonard gave him a stern look. "I'd bet _a lot_ of money that Khan and his crew are certainly'freeze-dried again-." Bones stopped as Jim gestured for silence.

He gave him an anxious glance.

"You've got to tell me what's happening, Jim-," Leonard flicked on the tricorder again. 

  
"Just voices," He sighed in relief. "Some crewmen on the decks below must be making a lot of noise."

"I don't hear-."

" _Don't_ give me that look, Bones," Kirk snapped, pressing a button on the tricorder's main tablet, revealing sound waves and other readings. " _Just_ noise."

" _Don't_ touch a doctor's tricorder," McCoy snapped back. "It's all we got."

"All _you_ have are your bones, Bones."

"And so you know, this tricorder is a unique bone that grew after eight plus years of medical school," Bones gave his familiar crotchety expression he exaggerated jokingly. "...Your hearing is up 21%. I'm getting a new Five Exam from you..." He typed rapidly onto the tablet.

"Five?"

"Five senses, Jim, you got five senses," McCoy scowled at him playfully before growing more serious. "...your sense of hearing has more than doubled. I need a real look at this...it's as if you're gaining a whole additional percent every twenty minutes..."  

"73 _adult_ humans frozen...countless embryos frozen- everyone's a fucking popsicle. What is the plan there?" Jim thought aloud. "If Khan and his crew _are_ in stasis, does that mean the Federation is planning on using them again when a crazed admiral needs an illegal warship? Or are two _more_ centuries going to pass, then the whole story repeats itself!   _A lot_ of good officers were killed over Cold Station 12 _and_ Khan...The 'Botany Bay' bunch _must_ be imprisoned somewhere- the government wouldn't make the mistake... _three_ times..."

"The government is the government is the government," McCoy shrugged his shoulders, pursing his lips.

"So has been the murmurs since the dawn of man," Jim put a hand to his forehead. "So is that what's going to happen to Averly? ' _Freeze-dried'_ or given a trial?"

"Worse, maybe," Bones's face darkened.

"We don't even know if she's a criminal," Kirk sighed. "...and her twins haven't even been born yet..."

 

"Sick Bay, Private Rooms," the lift announced and its doors opened onto chaos.

 

In front of Averly's room, a crowd of crewmen were circled around Spock and Officer Atch'axah (he could barely see the top of her blue head). 

 

"How did she save us?"

 

"-a _ticking_ time bomb-!"

 

"-how do we know it was  _she_ who saved us?!"

 

" _I_ want to know what is being done about this!"

   

"-Ruan is _dead_ -!"

 

"-' _anomaly_ ' doesn't answer-!"

 

It didn't surprise Jim, he'd been hearing the arguments and clamor from decks above, but he _was_ surprised find so many crewmen knew where Averly was.

 

"What is going on here?" He demanded loudly.

 

"It's been two days and _one_ casualty," a tall engineer declared passionately. "We _deserve_ an answer!" He was clearly Native-American, Kirk noted since his characteristics were unusual- icy green eyes and something Kirk couldn't put his finger on.

 

He stared at Jim as the crowd rose with more restless questions and disputes.

 

" _Why_ did you decide-," Jim spoke authoritatively, refusing to fold under the engineer's gaze. "-to come to _here?_ "

 

"Because Khan's _bitch_ is here-!"

 

**-**

_"...Would your country be willing to extract you?"_

**-**

 

 

"-should thank her for saving-"

 

**-**

**_"_ ** _Your country's ideals and outrage will vouch for you too._ **_Americans are_ _passionate_ _, their 'righteous' type of rage has moved empires..."_ **

**-**

 

"-are we just supposed to stand around here and-"

 

**_-_ **

**_"_ ** **_The Important, the Superior survive. I will_ _make_ _you important- just as I did for myself, for my brothers and sisters..."_**

**_-_ **

 

"- _what really happened in the Rec Room-?!"_

 

**-**

**_"...Make me Important," she said._**

  **-**

 

"-are on  _m_ _andatory_ medical rest! _What the hell_ happened to your _mandatory_ medical rests? I'm the _head medical officer_ , dammit- get back to your quarters and general Sick Bay! Officer Joaquin, report back to engineering- Jim, could use some-."

 

**_-_ **

**_Her lips were soft on his. Khan strapped the ivory knife to her leg._ **

_**"Wait for the vibrations," He ordered. "They'll be coming down the corridor in 94 seconds."**_  

-

 

 

"Captain, the crew would benefit-," Spock sounded far away, his pale face fading into the frozen jade.

 

And Jim was back in Hayagriva.

 

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage XII: Lock }_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translations and Notes:
> 
> \---Cold Station 12 or "C12" from ENT episodes ("Cold Station 12", "Borderland," and "The Augments"). It was the Federation's top-secret, 22nd century facility located in an asteroid. It stored over 1,800 Augment embryos from the Eugenics Wars. It also held viruses and pathogens for research purposes. My version of the events at C12 are different than ENT episodes since this story is set in an alternate timeline. [(Source/More info)](http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/Cold_Station_12)
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------  
> (Sorry for the late chapter. I meant to publish this chapter a few weeks ago, but I got the jitters and decided not to.)
> 
> I get SO nervous when I write for these cherished characters (Spock, Kirk, McCoy). I love them so much and TOS's portrayal of them, so I put a lot of pressure on myself when it comes to this. Anyway, I think my versions meet the standards of my story and my interpretation of Star Trek. 
> 
> Ah, I made the fitness machine a variation of TOS's funny black foot-pump-stair-things-in-the-wall xD My machine was very difficult to describe- I hope it was clear enough!
> 
> Anyway, I loved being able to use the STiD open-ending (Khan being re-frozen, crew left in stasis) as the Federation's growing faults that are later addressed in TNG. It wasn't ever mentioned in the movie, but I assumed the Federation would keep it a secret that they stored Khan and co. like the Ark of the Covenant (-wink,wink- Indian Jones, hee hee). It also gave me an opportunity to further portray the conundrum and drama of Wrenne and the Botany Bay crew's predicament. 
> 
> My overall portrayal of the Federation is meant to be a government that is flawed, but overall more advantageous and righteous than corrupt and harmful. I love Roddenberry's unique, more positive future that stands out as unique among the surplus of grim, dystopian sci-fi stories. (Not that I don't enjoy a well-crafted dystopia, though!)
> 
> I love, love, love AO3, but here it's difficult to format this the way I want to- I hope the melding between Khan's memories and Kirk's present at the finale wasn't too confusing. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are so very, very appreciated! I am delighted the story has come this far, and it sure ain't slowing down any time soon =)
> 
> See you in chapter twelve, mes amis! <33


	12. Weaving Stage XII: Lock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning that Khan is alive, Wrenne tries to deny the obvious evidence in front of her. More of Wrenne's background is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { Dedicated with love to the memory of Leonard Nimoy. His character-acting and writing influenced me all throughout my life. I doubt I would've come up with this story without that influence. Rest in peace, Mr. Spock <3 }
> 
> Chapter rating: Teen
> 
> Trigger warnings: strong language.

**_{ Weaving Stage XII: Lock }_ **

 

\-----

 _"There are only 72 here," Khan's eyes glinted with dangerous anger as he looked up from the blueprints on the computer screen. "There_ should _be 73."_

 

 _"No,_ 72 _," I asserted. "because I told you that I_ won't _do this."_

_Khan smacked the computer so hard the monitor crashed off the table._

_  
"I_ won't _do it, Khan!" I shouted. "Why would you even plan such a drastic-_  crazy _'last option'? It would be_ hell _for me! For all of us! Trapped in space? In sleep?_ Maybe _we'll wake up? To what-? Some- some strange, 'brave new world'? What if- what if we're separated?"_

_"No, no, no," He repeated softly, coming toward me and gripping my shoulders. "It won't happen that way. And listen to me!" He shook me with that shout, then held himself back, taking a deep breath as I looked up at him with a furious gaze. "...We don't even know if it will happen,_ _Jānama. This is our time, our world._ I _am in control."_

 _"Chavez_ _is_ already _making these tube things!"_

 _"I'll absorb the rogue nations into mine," Khan continued, loosening his grip and running a hand up my cheek. "give our world more order. I will pull Chavez_ and  _Helen_ and  _the others in line._ This... _this is only planning an exit strategy in case of a strange and dark future."_

 _"Khan," I shivered with more fear than anger. "You have to promise me you will_ never _put me in one of those things."_

_He was shaking his head, his snow-clouded eyes storming._

_I shrugged from his grasp and slowly, soothingly ran my hand up his chest, over his shoulders._

_"In' a strange and dark future'-_ promise _you won't lock me away."_

_I rose on my tip-toes so I could rest my forehead against his._

_"Promise me."_

_\-----_

_Not a chance._

I wasn't going to look away first.

My lips were puckered so tightly, I could feel muscles in my face twitch.

 

When Milton had jammed his arms into the closing door, I had braced myself for his bones to snap.

Instead he managed  to squeeze open enough space for him- and him alone- to slip inside. 

 

Since then I was being sure not to blink.

_  
Stupid! So, so stupid!_

  
I had tightly wrapped Spock in the memory he'd given back to me- but with his abilities, he'd be out of that mental web quickly-

But I just needed time, time to think- _think_ and not just _react---_

_He's alive, he's alive, alive-_

Practically pumping through my veins-

_alive, alive, alive-_

 

I quietly ran to the bathroom, heard the automatic door closing then locking behind me.  
I crouched on the warm floor (how could they make it warm in space?), my hands clutched my hair, pulling hard on my scalp.

  
The tears were warm, so warm it actually felt good-

 

Khan is _alive._

Oh warm tears-

...But...

 

\--

_"-he opened fire on innocent men and women!  He killed countless people- crushed a man's skull in his bare hands- purposefully crashed a war ship into San Francisco!"_

  
\--

  
Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

  
What had he done? What had _they_ done? _Something_ had made him crazy, something made him pave a trail of blood and fire behind him-

 

I tangled a black strand of hair around my fingers and tugged to feel the pain spark.

-maybe this _was_ a corrupt system-

-obviously, he did what he _had to_ in order to survive--

 

I buried my face in my hands, trying to contain the clash of horror and relief-

No more "Short-Circuit".

 

_Breathe, breathe, he's alive, he'll find you-_

Just a matter of time.

Or I would find him.

 

There was a type of order back, a familiar world returning...

 

But I still couldn't ignore-

 

 _Crashed_ a _warship_ into San Francisco?

 

It sounded like Khan- if they had properly provoked him--

 

_How many people had died? How many had he killed?_

 

It made sense now- this crew and their behavior...

 

 _I_ was the enemy- when  _I_ woke up, all _they_ saw was the smoke and ash and destruction-

 

-or were they lying to me?

 

After all, they hadn't told me Khan was alive.

But could I blame them when he had---

_No, no, no, no, no._

I couldn't go there yet- I couldn't handle it-.

  
_He'd tell me everything_ , I assured myself,  _then I'd balance my own observation._ _  
_

 

I'd just need to find a way to him--

"Miss Averly-?"

 

"I'm in the bathroom," I panted, double-checking the door's lock. "I'm- I- uh- I think I'm going to throw  up, leave me alone!"

 

I was shaking violently, the world- the "strange and dark future" was suddenly spinning around me- bobbing on down a rapid river of doubt and revelation-

 

 _Dammit, make some hacking noises!_ I thought furiously to myself but I was too weak- I couldn't bring myself to fake any heaving.

 

It pumped through my veins.

_He's alive, alive, alive, alive, alive--_

"I'm sending in Officer Atch'axah to assist you," Spock's voice broke my reverie and I scrambled to my feet as I heard the door unlock.

 

"NO! I said leave me _alone!"_ I cried, pressing my weight against the door. _(It's automatic, stupid!)_

 

The lavatory's door opened barely an inch before I slammed the " _Occupied"_ button again, making it shift back to closing when Milton had slipped his muscular arm in the gap, then miraculously pried the door open wide enough for him to pop inside.

 

I had only needed time to think- _think_ and not just _react-_ because I was going to do something stupid, really stupid if I didn't get time to think-

 

-so I ended up locked in the bathroom with a strange man.

Not stupid, not at all.

 

I sat down and rested against the far wall.

 

 _Not a chance,_ I thought again, refusing to fold under Milton's intense stare.

 

"I'm _not_ leaving," I stated stubbornly.

 

"Exactly," He breathed.

 Milton brought down his elbow hard and broke off the lavatory's handle, then propped open a tile in the wall- it was filled with wires, strange chips, blinking lights-

 

_Shit, he's going to kill me- has some vendetta against Khan and is going to kill me for it-_

 

I tried to stay still as I felt around me for a makeshift weapon- looking for anything I could use in defense-

 

_Why the fuck was this ship so Spartan and bare?!_

No toilet brush, no nothing? Man has 'advanced' beyond plungers or toilet brushes--?!

 

"What is happening in there, officer?"

Spock's voice came from the walkie-talkie device hooked on Milton's belt.

 

"I'm talking to Miss Averly, sir," He picked up the cell-phone-type thing, balancing it in the crook of his neck as his fingers moved quickly among the wires in the wall- unplugging some, intertwining others, ripping out most of them- "She's very emotional and has locked herself inside the lavatory."

 

Milton gave me a look, and for once I penetrated his mental defenses.

 

 _Stay still,_ was the message in his gaze.

 

_/ relief, joy, focus, stress- /_

 

I felt his emotions, his mind, his soul brush against mine.

  
A tiger.

A prince.

A prisoner.

 

"Attempt a manual override-."

But I didn't hear Spock finish his command because Milton dropped the comm and smashed it under his foot.

 

"What the hell are you doing?!" I demanded, startled as I backed further against the wall.

 

He didn't reply but finished his work with the wires and microchips and finally smashed his fist against it all-

Sparks, cracks, and pops danced along the blue wall.

Then he turned to me.

 

" _Now_ ," Milton sighed, sitting on the floor. "we have some time..."

"You stay the fuck away from me!" I whispered. 

 

His eyes wilted under my sharp tone.

 

A brief flicker of

_/ vulnerability, pain, grief /_

 

Milton stretched out- practically _lounging_ on the bathroom floor as he looked away.

He still had his pride.

 

"I sent a message," His dark eyes flicked back to me. "I _named_ myself a message."

 

I felt my breath hitch in my chest.

  
"Shere-," I began.

"- _Milton,"_ He finished.

 

"You work for him," I guessed, stiffening.

 

Silence studied us closely, bearing down on the small room.

 

"...Joachim?" I guessed again, ignoring the intuition that was breathing heavily down my neck.

 

"I wouldn't expect you to recognize me like this..." Milton pulled the red band from his silver hair, carelessly flicking it away while his hair slipped to his shoulders, complimenting the tan tone of his skin. "...a shadow of what I was..." He paused, then reached out his hand to me. "...but can you still see me in this old man?"

 

My skin tingled just from the nearness of his touch, like my body was speaking to his.

But I wouldn't touch him.

 

Not until I was sure.

 

Milton sighed and folded his arms back behind his head.

"Do you remember how you distanced yourself from your memories of the Re-Ed block?" He asked.

 

"Stop playing games with me," I snapped. "Do you work _for_ Khan or _against_ him? I won't tell you anything so cut it- cut it out."

 

I think my intuition, my soul was moving separate from myself.

 

I began to feel wrapped in safety- though I fought it.

I began to feel-

 

-the opposite of loneliness; something now so foreign to me that I couldn't find the right word.

 

The opposite of waking in a strange world- a strange, dark future-

 

-instead, waking up in that creaky old four-poster bed, dusty sunrays twinkling Khan's smile as he pulled me into his arms.

 

-instead, flopping on my side in the fluffy Louis IV bed to see the shadows caress Khan's naked back as he bent over light of his computer.

-instead, waking to giggle while he nibbled along the crook of my neck- his body lost in the dark except for the shine in his snow-storm eyes.

 

"Oh my beloved," Milton reached to catch the tears falling down my cheeks, his voice laced with his own tears. "You didn't remember Re-Ed because you locked it away. You built that brick and mortar wall and it was gone."

 

His arms circled around me and I melted against his touch.

 

"Break it down," His warm fingers tipped my chin up to face him. "...break down that wall and look at me.

 

"No," the tears were still warm as I closed my eyes- but I couldn't keep myself from touching him, pulled to him like a magnet, electricity whirring as I reached out tentatively  to meet the hard muscles of his chest, slowly traveling up his toned neck, grazing his soft hair, tight jaw, tracing his chapped lips, caressing his cheeks, wet from _cold_ tears-

"We don't have the time, Jānama-!" He gripped my wrist so tightly my eyes shot open from the sparking reminder of pain. "-we don't have the time to do this gently! Joaquin is buying us these moments but they won't last long enough- _feel_ the bones here in your wrist- you can feel some inflexibility, can't you? It never moved as well after I broke it."

 

I focused my gaze on the ground, biting the insides of my cheeks until I tasted blood.

 

"I thought you were dead," I managed through gritted teeth. "I thought- I thought this was my only world- this 'strange and dark future'-"

 

" _Look_ at me," He ordered impatiently, fiercely and possessively taking my face in his hands- hands that were lightly shaking. Speaking in a voice that lightly shook.

 

 "You can see passed this fucking old man! You could have seen passed him instantly! _Why_ did you choose not to?!"

 

I watched him.

Frustrated tears of a tiger.

 

"If I let myself believe you were here," I breathed, he slowly leaned in until I was speaking against his lips and I dived my fingers deep into his soft hair. "If I let myself imagine...and I was wrong...it would have destroyed me. Completely destroyed. And I- I couldn't do that to our children."

 

 His eyes- dark, snow-cloud eyes with the pinpricks of gold- flared brightly.

 

"Say my name," He ordered softly.

 

He was holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. 

I wanted to feel his skin- I wanted feel him, his heart beat, his breath- everything.

 

Instead I traced my shivering lips along the streaks of cold tears on his cheeks.

If my tears were warm, then his should be too.

 

"Khan," I murmured. "My Shere Khan."

 

There was a moment I felt Khan's breath caught in his chest before he cursed in relief, in release, and took my own breath in his fierce, hard kiss.

My lips parted beneath his, accepting the hard, hot thrust of his tongue against my own.

His taste, his touch, his scent flooded everything- I closed my lips tightly around his tongue, suckling to draw out more of that taste-

A growl rumbled from his chest.

 

With such an insane roller coaster of emotion- I couldn't believe how badly I wanted him to take me, I wanted to feel him inside me again- that hot pressure, the physical embodiment of all his passion an vulnerability that I could cradle inside of me.

 

"I took 'the last option'-," He gasped between desperate kisses. "-so we would sleep together again...even if it would be far apart...maybe wake in a new world, a world where I could find you, free you-"

 

"--Oh, Khan," my voice came as a whimper as I leaned back to hold his cheek in my hand. The warm tears returned.

 

"I'm not the way I was," He sighed.

 

"No you're not," I smiled. "Now you're my silver tiger...but how...?"

 

"Auto-Aging," Khan replied. "An illegal cosmetic procedure- necessary to disguise myself."

 

\--

_"He nearly destroyed this crew and myself! Members of my crew died when he tried to blow this ship to rubble!"_

\--

 

"Mother of my children," Khan carefully placed a hand on my belly.  

I guided his touch down lower to where I had felt the fluttering, the swelling mound of my womb.

 

" _Natural_ children... _our_ children..."  

 

"I tried to tell you," I hiccupped a sob. "the night Val died- the night I nearly escaped-."

 

"The Bluetooth was useless. Chavez was jamming the signals- I should have known--," He waved it all aside. "It doesn't matter. Beyond the weaving of time and space, we've found each other again."

 

Suddenly something bit painfully at my senses.

 

_/ anger, fear, uncertainty_

_demand, wildness, panic /_

 

"-What-? What is that?" I clutched my head.  

 

_/ betrayal, shock, disbelief /_

 

 

Something- a crowd somewhere-

 

 

"Joaquin has it under control," Khan held me against his chest, gently cradling me.

 

I closed my eyes and listened to the beating of his heart.

 

"I'm so glad he survived- after Joan and Karmen--and then Valerian-- after they died, I didn't know if..." I trailed off and decided to change course. "How did you manage to board the ship? What are we going to do now?"

 

Screams cracked through the air, followed by the sound of shots (lasers?).

 

  
"What the hell-?" I jumped in Khan's arms.

 

"That," He helped me to my feet. "is our cue."

 

Again, the captain's voice came to me:

_"He nearly destroyed this crew and myself! Members of my crew died when he tried to blow this ship to rubble!"_

 

"I don't know what the _specific_ history you have with these people, Khan, but we have to-."

 

" _Milton_ ," He corrected me in a forceful tone. "We're out of time- back to infiltration. Gears are already in motion- just follow my instructions _exactly._ "

 

The images I had pictured of screaming and crying people fleeing from crumbling buildings- ashes and smoke rising high above the San Francisco bridge-

People this very day aching over a lover, a child, a parent- forever gone from their lives-

A memorial holiday probably marked on American calendars-

 

I moved it all aside and nodded obediently.

 

I wouldn't follow unquestioningly- but we had managed to find each other.

 

Beyond all the weaving of time and space.

 

_\-----_

**_( Weaving Stage II: Hunt )_ **

  _  
_

"You recall the American girl you captured with 451-9N?" Bouhler asked, tossing a red file onto the table.

  
"You bothered to make a file?" Khan answered wryly.

  
"Perhaps I should have recorded your overall _failure_ to eliminate this _smallest trickle_ of a security leak!"

 

The tense silence was sparking like electricity, threatening to catch fire.

 

Khan remained still, relaxed against the wall as he allowed a prolonged hush before:

"The weapon... _locked."_

 

Bouhler finally folded under Khan's heavy stare.

"Of course... _'locked',_ " General Bouhler still sent his jab before sitting down in the armchair behind his desk. "...As I was saying, I didn't _need_ to make a file for the American captive because there is _already_ a file for her."

 

"A _genetic_ file..." Khan took his time, poured himself a splash of brandy. "...with Hayagriva?"

 

"With _the Prometheus Project_ ," he corrected.  

 

" _Prometheus?_ " Khan raised his eyebrows in surprise, taking the file off the coffee table to flip through it. "The F.B.I. cleared their labs out of America in the 90s..."

 

"Prometheus _is_ dead," Bouhler confirmed. "along with most of its agents and scientists, though IIT has  encountered pockets of their subjects- augmented, but with genetics spliced from certain animal DNA- the so-called 'Breeds'." He snorted indignantly.

 

"Two subjects went missing in the 70s-," Khan read aloud from the file.

 

"-and apparently _gave birth to a child_ in the U.S.- the western state of Utah specifically," Bouhler finished for him, lighting a cigarette.

 

"And the girl we captured- 'Wrenne Averly'- is this...hybrid?"

 

"Yes. Originally 'Cerridwen Wrenne McGivers', daughter to Prometheus's subjects R.L. and M.A., this _natural_ Augment captive of ours was code-named _'M.A.R.L.A.'_ by Prometheus."

 

"Subject R.L. took the name 'Sylene Averly', Subject M.A. 'Noel McGivers'..." Khan summarized, flipping through the file's pages. "...1985, they married in Wales, England; in Cedar City, Utah, 1988, Cerridwen- _'M.A.R.L.A.'- was_  born..."

 

"And then 1996, M.A. is eliminated in Cedar City," the general finished for him. 

 

"With the FBI and CIA in swift pursuit, Prometheus was trying to erase its footprints," Khan nodded. "...when was the mother eliminated?"

 

"She was finally confirmed dead in 1999. 'Sylene' and her daughter had relocated to Wales four years earlier."

 

"The Americans report that 'Sylene'- died of a disease?"

 

 " _That_ was completely undetermined and in my opinion, quite impossible," Bouhler contradicted. " _she_ was full Augment, not from Hayagriva, but one of our other remote espionage centers near the Prometheus labs. It was 'Noel'- Subject R.L.- who was a 'Breed' with animal splicing...Lupine or Canine or some bull shit. Either way, M.A.R.L.A. managed to slip through the cracks...and now she's ours. 7K , we have struck _a gold mine_." He smiled coldly, leaning back in his chair as he puffed out a long wisp of smoke from his cigarette. "A _natural_ Augment and splice hybrid...She's a smart little thing, living under the radar for so long. We'll run tests to measure her abilities, then we'll break M.A.R.L.A.down- dissection, decoding _\-  all_ of Prometheus's work is hidden in that girl, and it will be ours."

"Fortunate then, that my weapon locked instead of killing her," Khan carelessly tossed back the red file, drinking down the rest of his liquor. "As you know, General, my time is expensive, are we quite finished?"

 

Bouhler scowled at him but, again, he eventually crumbled:

"Just keep Dr. Singh's nose _and_ his defective mind out of this M.A.R.L.A.business......he'd only preserve her life for whatever reason _you_ did."

 

Khan was silent again, looking into his empty glass; the stillness unnerving the general until he eventually shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, placing his golden pen on his desk and taking back the _'M.A.R.L.A.'_ file.

 

"So you are intending to move her to the Euthanasia Block for a...dissection?" Khan's words seemed to lounge confidently along the air as he spoke slowly, carefully, at his own ease. "I'm surprised you are unaware, General,  _'M.A.R.L.A.'_ McGivers was transferred to Re-Education. She's now  under the custody of the Re-Ed Council." He paused. " I am sure you are familiar with the long and somewhat _laborious_ petition process to transfer a Re-Ed patient out of Re-Education..."

Bouhler slammed his fist down and jumped from his chair.

 

Khan didn't flinch.

 

"I suggest..." Khan continued, setting his glass on the general's desk,  flicking the golden pen off his desk. "...you get started."

 

"I _know_ how to _destroy you_ , 435-7K!" Bouhler shouted, his face nearly flushed purple, the veins in his neck bulging.

_  
_

"Why, General," Khan turned away, barely concealing a cold smile. "you're talking quite over my head."

 

As he left the office, he heard General Bouhler screaming into his phone.  
_  
_

Too late, Khan smiled. The hunt was over.  
"M.A.R.L.A." McGivers was his.

_\-----_

**_{ Continued in Weaving Stage XIII: Infiltration }_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all- just to be clear- "Milton"/Khan is a little younger than he was in WoK, but ultimately looks exactly like the Khan from WoK. 
> 
> Annnyway....  
> This was originally a very, very, very long chapter. There are still so many questions to answer, right? Plus Khan and Wrenne's reunion scene- GAH! SO MANY FEELS! So many different emotions for the characters, which should be in the spotlight at what time?? GAH xP Nevertheless, I really enjoyed writing this chapter- I've been planning it and looking forward to this one for a while! I hope you enjoyed it, I hope it was romantic but not sappy, and-
> 
> MARLA MCGIVERS OUT OF NO WHERE! -ridiculously satisfied with herself- Alternate timeline, baby- I thought up the code-name ages ago and I've been absolutely dying to reveal it, hee hee...it may be kind of corny, but I sure do love it! Obviously, this scene (Stage II: Hunt) takes place before Khan attacks and cripples Bouhler, before Noonien's death, but just after Khan and Noonien snuck Wrenne into Re-Education as an intake patient.
> 
> So what caused the screams? The panic Wrenne was picking up on...? She'll stand by Khan, but will she stand by if innocent people are in danger? How did Khan re-awaken and escape in the first place...? (If you think the tip to Marla McGivers is foreshadowing future events, think again =3)


	14. Weaving Stage XIII: Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan's life continues to haunt the Enterprise crew- especially Captain Kirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: Older Teen
> 
> Trigger warnings: violence, simulation of domestic violence

**_ _ **

**_{ Weaving Stage XIII: Infiltration }  
_ ** _Chapter Thirteen_

 

 _  
_ The crew came through the doors, continuing the soothingly familiar rumble and rustle he had been hearing even in the hallway.

 

He watched Wrenne slip out of the utility closet and back into view of the security cameras, wandering right into his path.

 

 _Perfect,_ _Jānama_ _. Perfect._

 

It was hard not to smile in praise of her timing, her skill. 

 

But he had planned this carefully- he couldn't smile. Instead, he hunched his shoulders and watched Wrenne cross the hall toward him.

He knew she was pretending, but it was incredibly convincing: she looked lost, confused, frightened...

And so he had to appear angry, brooding, outraged...

 

The plan had struck him as his ideas usually did: sudden and intense like a flash of blinding, white light.

 

_-_

_"Blind faith," Wrenne had taken a sharp breath._

 

_"Blind faith," he clutched her hand tightly. "It's the only way."_

 

_"Is it going to hurt?"_

 

_"Yes."_

 

_She was trembling and the sight sent throbbing pain to his heart- like shuddering pulses of electricity._

 

_"Don't- I can feel you torturing yourself. Don't," Wrenne forced a small smile as he took her carefully in his arms. Rising on tiptoe she brushed a tear from his eye. "You gave me a choice. I'm going with the plan, even if I don't know what it is."_

 

_She gently ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned in against the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent as she tenderly cradled his head._

 

_He felt a steady calm lap at his mind like ocean waves._

_  
Maybe it was something to do with her empathic gifts- or something about her and how he loved her- it cleared his mind while expanding it at the same time._

 

_He straightened and took her face in his hands._

 

 _"On my life, I swear to you- you will_ never _be a prisoner again."_

_-_

 

"Lungri!"* He barked at Wrenne as she tried to slink away down the hall.

 

  
From the corner of his eye, he could see the crew approaching them- all 72, _and_ Dr. Singh.

 

_Good._

 

Even General Bouhler led the crowd in his humming, bulky electric wheelchair.

 

_Perfect._

Khan lunged toward Wrenne and grabbed her by her dark hair, his knuckles in deep where her natural red roots were growing in.

 

She cried out in pain and he swung her around by the hair.

 

"What the hell were you doing in that closet?" he growled, his softer tone icy yet dangerous.

 

"Nothing!" Wrenne whimpered loudly, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry, saheb, I-I  was lost, I had-."*

  
"They may be considering you to become one of us," Khan jerked her closer by her broken wrist- she fell to her knees, the pain briefly flashing across her face-  

 

And then it was gone, replaced by very convincing fear. 

 

"But," Khan continued. "don't think for a _moment_ that you will be anything more than a filthy American _human!_ " He spat, wrenching her back to her feet. " _We_ are Augments. _We_ are the new, Superior race of human beings! We will _crack_ your country as easily as we do bone!" Khan snapped her already-broken wrist, Wrenne's scream ripping so suddenly through the air that it startled him. The scream pounded against the marble walls, seemed to shake the very foundation of the building.

He wrestled with his emotions- the immediate response of concern, fear, pain, love- he had to shove them down, down, wrestle them into submission until he was out of sight-

 

 

 _Save her, save her,_ Khan repeated to himself.  _This is saving her._

 

 

Suddenly it all seemed to be happening so slowly. 

Her hazel eyes widened as she fell back, limp like a helpless dead bird. 

 

 _So fragile_ , he marveled again. _They truly are so very_ fragile. 

 

His resolve hardened. 

_All the more reason to save her._

 

 

_"There's no one to make a fuss over me."_

_"Your country's ideals and outrage will vouch for you."_

 

Her country's ideals and outrage would vouch for her when he leaked the security cameras' recording of this- leaked it to U.S. media, no,  _all_ western media...

But it had to look real.

It had to be as close to genuine as possible.

 

Still holding her broken wrist, he felt bruised into numbness as he threw Wrenne carelessly against the wall, turning to his crew as-

 

**_"CAPTAIN!"_ **

 

A  hard smack cracked against his cheek, and steadily Bones leaked into the scene- Bones, with his fist raised and bloody- Bones and Spock- Litige- Chekov-  

 

A group of the crew- _his_ crew- crowding the hallway outside the Sick Bay private rooms.

  
Phasers were raised, set, and aimed on him.

 

 

" _Let her go, Captain_ ," Officer Joaquin's phaser blinked red- red for _kill._

 

 

"Jim-," McCoy reluctantly pulled back for another punch.

 

Kirk looked down at himself.

He was holding Commander Litige, her wrist dangling at a sickeningly unnatural angle-

In his own hands.

 

Suddenly there was a sharp, pincing pain from his shoulder and it ripped through his body- Kirk fell to his knees, darkness threatening to close in on him-

Until it faded away.

 

"No," Jim murmured, almost begging as horror convulsed through his system. "No-." He grabbed the hand pinching his shoulder, pulled it up and away as he turned to see Spock staring at him in astonishment.

Kirk swirled back around to see Litige collapse, sobbing, into McCoy's arms.

 

Frozen jade, frozen jade... _why_ frozen jade? What importance could that have when he had just  _assaulted_ a member of his own crew--

 

"Helen- Helen, I'm sorry-," Kirk began.

 

" _Stay where you are, Captain!_ " Joaquin warned him, the red light still blinking on his phaser.

 

 Scattered faces in the crowd- science officers, commanders, engineers, security- they all stared at him.

 

So many emotions mingled among the crowd, spreading and stirring like dye into a mucky, unrecognizable color.

 

  
"Jim," Spock placed a gentle hand on his shoulder this time-

But Kirk recognized the tone.

 

It was the same tone he used when the young, claustrophobic science officer had become trapped in the jeffries tubes and started screaming a rant about the hubris of man-

 

The tone Bones used when Averly had first awoken, when she had panicked and nearly sounding-

 

Insane.

 

Kirk straightened his stance, brushing off Spock.

 

"Helen, everyone- I'm sorry. I only want to protect this crew...and our ship. I will do whatever I have to in order to accomplish that," He raised his hands to be cuffed.

 

"As acting-captain, I order you _all_ to lower your phasers." There was something in Spock's voice- or maybe his intonation-

 

"You'll be fine, Helen, sounded like a clean fracture," Bones turned away, his arms around Litige as he guided her to the lift. "We'll go up one floor to general Sick Bay and get it set. Cut-and-dry, clean-and-simple..." He spared a glance over his shoulder at Kirk.

  
Kirk didn't like what he saw in his gaze.

  
  
"Officer, secure the captain," Spock continued to organize the mob back into the responsible, dutiful men and women that made up Kirk's crew.

Spock's crew, he corrected himself.

 

"Escort him to Main Interrogation in the Brig."

 

Jim found he felt extremely numb- as Joaquin closed the handcuffs around his wrists, he felt nothing.

  
Or rather, he felt so much that his mind couldn't interpret it- until he noticed Joaquin's eyes.

 

Colored like frozen jade. 

 

Spock had flipped open his communicator: "Officer Atch'axah, has Milton resolved the issue with the broken lavatory door?"

  
"Yes, Commander," She replied. "Subject is calmed-."

 

"Commander?" Milton's voice came through. "It's Milton, sir. I used level one restraints to secure her to the bed, just in case."

 

Joaquin was unwavering, watching Kirk with those jade eyes-

 

"Thank you, officers," Spock's voice sounded farther away. "I'll be in shortly to speak with Averly. In the meantime, change her room to-."

  
_Averly_ , Kirk remembered, feeling dazed.

 

Bones had seemed to think she was willing to help him.

 

Khan's blood.

Khan's wife.

 

Even without the man's touch, he had destroyed this.

All of this, all that Jim lived for, that his- _the_ crew lived for.

 

No wonder such a man had felled nations-

 

  _ **Wrenne lied in a pile on the floor, shivering with tears as Dr. Singh and Joachim helped her to her feet.**_

**_Khan barely saw the blur of furious, copper eyes before he was punched in the jaw._ **

 

Kirk shook his head fiercely as the IIT hallway started to seep back over the present- over _reality._

 

**_"What the hell is wrong with you?" Joaquin shouted, punching him again across his cheek, then whispered, "You could expose us all to the West- or worse, that shuffling excuse for a corpse!" Joaquin gestured toward Bouhler._ **

**_"And what will you do, 484-0J?" Khan demanded loudly, spitting blood into Joaquin's face. "Are you going to 'hypnotize' me?"_ **

**_There was scattered laughter among the crew._ **

 

 _Enterprise, Enterprise,_ Jim screamed in his head, forcing his sight to clear and come back- but his tether was light. 

 

"Alright, Officer, Captain, let's-," Spock began when Kirk swung his bound wrists as hard as he could, cracking both his fists into Joaquin's mouth- the blow may not hurt him badly, but it  _did_ jerk his head back so those jade eyes were off of him.

"Spock!" Jim panted, striking Joaquin again as hard as he could. "He's one of Khan's men! He's  _one of the 72!"_

 

Kirk would step down as captain, he would back down and fry himself alive to preserve the _Enterprise_.

 

He would never give up.

 

He had felt a strange connection to Khan when he had first encountered him- believed that connection had been his weakness, how Khan had overpowered him, nearly massacring  _his_ crew,  _his_ ship...

 

  
But today-

 

Today, Kirk would use that firm, now undeniable connection-

 

He would use it to keep the crew and the _Enterprise_ afloat in the beautiful, black frontier.

 

He'd find a way.

 

Even if it meant never being captain again.

 

_**{ Continued in Weaving Stage XIV: Bleed-Through }** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translation and Notes:
> 
> \---Lungri, a Hindi word meaning one who is weak, wounded, or lowly
> 
> \---Saheb, Hindi honorific, "sir" or "high sir"
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> First of all, this chapter is still rather rough...I'll keep working on it to clean it up...
> 
> Oh. My. Glob.  
> I have /never/ been through such a /severe/ and /frustrating/ period of writer's block than these last few months! 
> 
> I am so, so sorry for such a late chapter! Thank you very much for being so patient!! Thank you for waiting!! I have the most wonderful readers here!! <33
> 
> My favorite story became a horrid torture these past months because while I knew what was going to be in the next chapter, I just couldn't get it down right! I've had depression all my life, and unfortunately, when I get depressed my writing muse vanishes...
> 
> Seriously though, I worked the /hardest/ on this chapter! I have 11 different drafts for it...about 4 of them at least 15 pages long... I think what happened is my depression struck and then, well, there's -ahem- quite a big surprise still ahead in the story and I was so eager to reveal it that I kind of disrupted the rhythm of our tale, so I had to keep rewriting and rewriting until I was back on the right rhythm! 
> 
> Sorry this chapter ended up so short, but I am publishing the next chapter later this week too!
> 
> I hope the shift from Khan's perspective to Kirk's wasn't too confusing- I wanted it to be a little confusing at first =3 Just to be clear, Khan didn't tell Wrenne his plan because he knew her reaction had to be as close to genuine as possible. And since it was Khan's perspective, I thought I'd probe a little into how Wrenne's empathy can /positively/ affect people, especially those she loves.
> 
> More clarifying: 
> 
> Kirk was re-living Khan's memory of breaking Wrenne's wrist (continuing the scene from Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order Pt. 2) and, as a scary progression in Kirk's condition, Kirk ended up not just re-living Khan's memory but acting it out as well...very curious, very worrisome! Hopefully Kirk withstanding the Vulcan-pinch wasn't too obvious an echo of Khan's in STiD...
> 
> Poor Kirk! T.T -sniffle-
> 
> Near the end of the chapter, I tried to express that strange rival/evil twin/brother-ish connection Kirk and Khan share but I think I didn't convey it well. It's so hard to put into words! 
> 
> Anyway, thanks again- thanks sooo much! New chapter coming later this week =) 
> 
> Kudos and especially comments /very/ appreciated! Thanks for all the support during the unexpected hiatus!


	15. Weaving Stage XIV: Bleed-Through, Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While a surreal, toxic fog of past and present swirl around them, Kirk forms a strategy to confront Joaquin and learn about his possible ties to an infiltration of the Enterprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: strong language, disturbing images.

_** ** _

_**{ Weaving Stage XIV: Bleed-Through, Pt.1 }  
** _

 

"Always knew you had more strength than your exams showed," Khan commented, rubbing his bruised cheek and wiping more blood from his lip.

"Figure it only took proper _motivation_."

"That's enough, Joachim."

 

 Joaquin hadn't said anything since their fight.

 

"Joaquin?" Khan placed an arm around his shoulders.

"The little bird...How the fuck could...she's..." Joaquin didn't finish and threw Khan's arm off of him. "You  _broke her wrist!"_

 

"I'm the oldest, you must trust me," Khan called after him.

 

Joaquin was already moving to the door, waving away the words.

"Then fuck off, old man," Joaquin spat as he slammed the door behind him.

 

 

"435-7K, report for Sasza, the High General's suite," reported the P.A. *

 

"He's so damn _sensitive_ ," Joachim snorted, referring to Joaquin.

 

Etta smacked Joachim over the head.

"It's his _gift_ ," She asserted. "He's the only one of us that is learning from Wrenne's abilities."

 

"Only because they've been having her _'teach'_ some of _us_ ," Joachim rubbed his wounded head defensively.

 

"And apparently, Joaquin is the only one with the capacity to learn," Khan thought aloud.

 

"Don't you fucking talk to _me_ , Khan!" Etta shot him an enraged glare. "Everyone else may be unfazed, but I'm with Joaquin on this. I don't know what the hell crawled up your ass, but I don't like this-" She glanced toward the security cameras that blankly watched them. "-this strange behavior." She tugged on her dark dreadlocks, irritated. "We're family. Now the girl is too."

 

The other girls- only 21 among the 51 other men- they pushed and shouted along with the rest of the crew, but Etta, like Joaquin, worked more softly.

 

Khan kissed her dark cheek and hugged her. She put her arms around him tentatively.

"Wrenne is safe now," He whispered. "Don't worry, sister."

 

 "Wait, did the report say 'Sasza'? With Bouhler?" Joachim's tone of voice gave away his anxiety even though he was clutching his fists entering the elevator which morphed into a dark, metallic room where people's faces pushed against the walls, screaming silent screams into the material.

 

Suddenly Khan was falling away- no- drowning-

 

 

He was a young boy again, in one of the earliest exams he could recall.

 

"He's losing consciousness."

 

"But is he finally drowning?"

 

"We've had him submersed for a whole damn hour!"

 

The metal walls had melted into a quicksilver pond in which he sank, a greenish gray spider-creeping, running over his skin, up his neck, into his mouth- and as he took one last, copper-flavored breath, it plunged down his throat-

 

"He's inhaled water. Entering tachycardia."

 

"Leave him in there until he flat-lines."

 

And suddenly a naked Indian woman burst from the metallic, screaming hysterically, crying and begging,

 

"Don't hurt me! Please, don't touch me!"

 

I _won't,_ I _won't,_ he tried to assure her in return but he couldn't speak, he couldn't back away, he couldn't- his limbs were taken over by quicksilver and hardening, cracking away into rusted bronze.

 

"Why won't you let me _out?!_ " She screamed.

 

"Not until he flat-lines."

 

He felt his own scream finally start to rip in his chest as he banged his fists on the glass of the water tank.

 

LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LETME-

 

 

Kirk jolted.

He sat up in bed, dazed as he took in the familiar surroundings of his quarters.

 

 

Nightmare or hallucination?

 

Probably some of both.

 

The hallucinations tended to remain within the confines of reality, but _that--_

He shuddered inwardly and reached for his comm.

 

"Kirk to Spock."

 

"I'm here, captain."

 

"Has Joaquin-?"

 

"No. It has proved quite difficult to even approach him...it seems that he has the ability to project certain thoughts and images into another's mind, even induce someone-."

 

"Into a trance?" Kirk finished for him.

 

"... _Yes_ ," Spock's irritation and surprise rang briefly in his voice. "Doctor McCoy has managed to sufficiently sedate him so we can place him in solitary confinement in the Brig. Using consistent doses, we can keep him unconscious, which appears to be the only state that leaves us secure."

 

"Have you talked to Wrenne yet?" Kirk was surprised to hear himself use her first name. "Joaquin may have her- abilities."

 

"I have not spoken to Wrenne, captain, we have been busy with Mr. Joaquin. His own abilities are far more advanced than hers."

 

 

_More like "augmented"._

 

"I want to talk to her."

 

 

Silence.

 

 

"...Are you sure that is wise?" Spock finally asked.

 

"I think it is the only shot we've got."

 

Another pause, but more brief.

"Very well. Mr. Chekov and I will come to your quarters and escort you to an interrogation cell."

 

"Not an interrogation cell, Spock. There's some place else that would be more appropriate."

 

 

\----- 

 

  
I was sitting tensely.

 _Lying_ tensely on the bed.

 

_Relax, dammit!_

 

 _Oh yeah,_ that's _relaxing- yelling "RELAX"_

 

_Pretend to be asleep._

 

_STUPID. Ask for something to read-_

 

The dialogue in my head wouldn't stop.

 _Khan is here. Khan is here. Khan is here_ seemed to thump along in my heart beat.

 

The air was vibrating, or electrified, or-

 

 

_But what's going on?_

 

Since Khan and I had come back from that bathroom- since I'd felt that surge of emotion coming from the hallway full of crewmen-

_/SHOCK,FEAR!PANICDENIAL?/_

_-_ all of Kirk's men had been acting so weird.

 

 

Tight, but shaken.

 

So shaken.

 

Hours ago, Khan had left, following some strange order from his walkie-talkie device.

 

An order that had startled Officer Atch'axah.

Her face didn't change, but _I_ felt it from her.

 

/ _surprise/_ followed by _/suspicion/_ that kept rotting off of her _._

 

Even now.

 

 

Fluttering nausea in my stomach as the dialogue started again:

 

_You're too tense, they'll figure it out!_

 

_Khan's been caught- that's why he's-_

 

 

"Officer," I was surprised to hear myself speak but the words rolled out. "Do you think I could have more of that tea you gave me yesterday? Salia?"

 

"Thas'inala," Atch'axah corrected me. "I'm sorry, Miss Av- Wrenne, but I have orders not to leave this room and the synthesizer in here only makes water and crackers." *****

/ _Sadness. Longing. Uncertainty/_

 

Synthesizer? Like music?

 

"Could I get-?" I started again.

 

"No- allow me to," She answered quickly, moving toward a metallic, box-sized gap in the wall by the counter. "Please do not take from the bed."

Atch'axah pressed some buttons.

 

"Crackers and water?"

 

"Yes, please." I had been too nauseous when a meal had been brought to me but suddenly I was craving something salty.

 

I couldn't help but look at the sink, which she had ignored in order to focus on a panel in the wall.

 

 

"Thank you," I took the cup from her hands (where did it come from? She hadn't used the sink) and my curiosity must have shown on my face.

 

"The synthesizer provides the necessary items for that what is ordered," Atch'axah smiled a little, amused by my wonder.

 

"Like out of thin air?"

 

"No, the cup is from a long rack within the machine's walls- but some say they are working on a synthesizer that also- conjure- is that the correct term?- conjures utensils from scattered atoms like a transporter. It would be a _duplicating, rematerializing_ synthesizer!"

 

"You can- teleport?" I laughed,  imagining how farfetched the idea had been. "That's incredible!"

 

"...I am not familiar with that word, 'teleport,'" Atch'axah scratched her head. "My English is not as sufficient... The transporter dematerializes a passenger, beams them to a specific location, and rematerializes them." She spoke the explanation as if she had memorized it from a handbook. (She probably had done just that.)

 

"Teleporting!" I gasped.

 

Would I get a chance to see it? I stupidly wondered until I remembered-

_This future is home now. You will probably live and die around them._

 

Depending on where and how Khan and I-

_Escaped._

 

And have we ever escaped anything without someone dying? Without killing?

 

 

...Who would it be?

 

 

  
I watched Atch'axah's face, a strange hue of light blue- light, light blue like those weirdos who'd take silver as medicine. *****

 

 

I smacked head-first into a mental boulder with the captain's voice ringing in my ears-

 

 _"-He nearly _destroyed_  this crew  _and__   _myself! Members of _my__   _crew _died__   _when he tried to blow this ship to _rubble!"__

 

-the most distressing and dangerous fact of all, the fucking _moron_ I was to not have realized-

 

Khan had dealt with them all before- for whatever reason, he had tried to destroy them-

And _failed._

 

 

I felt afraid- a type of fear I hadn't felt since that day in Hayagriva- the hallway, the crowd of Augments, and Khan breaking my wrist again.

 

There was a wrath in that man.

A fury that was seemingly wild and nearly random.

 

What would happen when it landed on these people?

 

 _Doesn't matter_.

I put a hand over my womb.

 

Twins, Doctor McCoy had said. At least one boy.

 

What would it take...?

"It will cost much," Atch'axah said.

 

"-What?" I sluggishly rose from my reverie.

 

"This new kind of synthesizer will cost much but it could change much, as well," She smiled.

 

"Oh, of course it would," I took a deep breath and forced myself to nibble on the crackers she had brought me.

_Talk to Khan. Talk to Khan..._

We always evened each other out. We'd do what we always did- 

 

Atch'axah's phone mechanism sounded and she flipped it open.

 

 

"Officer Atch'axah," She said.

 

"Officer, the captain and I are headed to your assignment."

 

"Acknowledged, Mr. Spock."

 

 _/Surprise/..._ and was that...?

_/anxiety,anxiety/_

 

 

Spock and Kirk entered with another red uniformed person with a young, boyish face. He looked rather startled that anyone had permitted him whatever responsibilities he held.

 

 

"Mr. Chekov ***** ," Atch'axah straightened her posture.

"Hello," Chekov's pale cheeks got some subtle color in them and he gave a small smile.  

_/attraction, attraction/_

_That_ is adorable- it even swept away the cloud of anxiety he seemed to walk around with- he was lighter now, and more confident than when he had first entered.

  
Spock-

/ _....focus..../_

 

 

Kirk-

_/determination, calm/_

 

 

"Miss Av- Mrs. Singh-," Chekov stumbled with his words a little and I was surprised to hear his Russian accent. "I am chief of security." He put out his hand and we shook.

Chekov was the only person to do that since I woke up to this world.

 

Such a common familiarity shook my emotions and I bit my tongue, determined not to cry over something so stupid but somehow meant so much.

A tear tumbled free anyway.

 

"Nice to meet you," I heard myself speak out of habit.

 

"I did not get an opportunity to thank you for your help with the incident in the Recreation Room."

 

 

I stared down at the sheets, fighting the rush of feelings colliding in my head.

 

Chekov was polite enough to overlook my ridiculously feminine struggle and I quickly wiped away the stray tear.

 

 

Must be the pregnancy hormones...

 _And the bat-shit crazy situation_.

 

 

"Are- you going to take me to the jail?"

 

"What?" His clear, green eyes looked genuinely surprised.

 

"For locking myself in the bathroom," I stated stupidly confused.

 

Chekov gave a short laugh, "No, not at all, no."

 

"Your reaction was understandable," Spock added.

 

"No harm done," Kirk shrugged. "You were with one of our officers. Just don't run off again, you're surrounded by a lot of unfamiliar technology. We don't want you accidentally hurting yourself."

 

Something had changed- what was it?

 

"If you would come with us for a moment," Chekov gave his arm to help me out of bed. "We would like your opinion on a fellow officer's state of mind."

I briefly hesitated before getting up and using Chekov to steady myself on my feet.

 

"Is it- because of last night?" I asked.

"Yes," Kirk answered.

 

Out of a newer habit, I put my wrists together for the usual procedure-

 

"No restraints are necessary," Chekov assured me. "We will only be going to the officer's room."

 

"Your empathic abilities could give us valuable insight for how we may help him," Spock explained.

 

"Who?"

 

They were leading me into the hallway, back toward the elevator.

 

"One of the engineering officers," Chekov specified.

 

  
"Last night," the captain continued. "I'm sure you heard the noise outside your room? Felt- _sensed_ a lot of emotion?"

 

I nodded.

 

"Is everyone- okay?" I hesitated briefly, wondering if I should indulge my concern when what I really needed to do was start distancing myself.

Whatever we needed to do to escape.

 

 

Chekov looked down.

 

Kirk- / _guilt, concern, struggle/_

 

Spock remained unchanged, telling the elevator which deck to take us to.

  
"Yes and no," Kirk answered heavily. "Someone suffered a broken arm, but Doctor McCoy is tending to her right now and she'll be fine." He leaned against the wall of the elevator as it began whirring us away. "I'll be frank with you, Wrenne. What you heard last night was- what we can deduce- some type of psychic attack. I know you yourself have said you don't possess any psychic abilities per se, but you have mental talents unlike any human in our recorded history."

 

"I didn't do anything last night, I just- locked myself in the bathroom," I rushed.

 _Real_ smooth, I thought sarcastically. Not suspicious at all!

 

"It wasn't you," the captain assured me. "Officer Milton, he was with you in the lavatory, and we know from his report you were just... overwhelmed." He paused. "But given your expertise, we thought you could help us with the officer affected. We don't know how to help him or what is even going on inside his head."

  
"Brig- solitary housing units," announced the elevator.

 

Chekov looked around, surprised. 

"Captain," He started. "We're not taking her to-."

 

"The officer we were talking about," Kirk explained, exchanging a _"Quiet!"_ look with Chekov. "We decided to bring him here for his own safety."

_/Lie./_

 

Lie! Lie! He was _lying!_

 

My heart started pounding in my chest.

It wasn't often that I could sense a lie without using logic or common sense.

But when I _did_ sense a lie like this- it was unmistakable.

 

A light alarm sounding in my mind.

 

 

_Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie._

 

 

The men led me out into a circular, brightly lit room with white walls and long panes of glass.

 

In the center were two more red uniform officers (security?) at some type of command desks with strange screens and buttons.

 

_/"I think you'd find my insight valuable, captain."/_

 

I stumbled a little.

 

_A tiger._

 

 

_A tiger carefully pacing back and forth._

 

 

_/"Ignore me and you will get everyone on this ship killed."/_

 

 

"Are you alright?" Chekov was supporting me, an arm behind my back as I struggled to find my balance.

 

What--

/ _"-tell me: why did you allow me to live?"/_

 

"Just- dizzy."

 

There was a dense fog so thick I could almost see it in my mind's eye.

 

_/"I watched you murder innocent men and women-!"/_

 

 

But I couldn't comprehend the images- the feelings-

 

_/"-72. And they're on board your ship, captain. They have been all along."/_

 

 _/"-I was authorized to_ end you _-!"/_

 

 

 

"Something's- wrong here," I spoke anxiously, short of breath as I waded in the growing pond of fog. "Everything- it's all- melting..."

Spock took my hand tightly in his and said something but I couldn't really hear it.

 

 

"Bones, give him more, we need him _out_."

"He's under, dammit! Anymore _out_ and he'd be dead, the answers gone with him!"

 

They were standing in front of a cell where another man in another red uniform was laying down. A screen projected over the unit's frame showed his relaxed, sleeping face.

 

Joaquin.

It was  _Joaquin._

 

  
/ _"I always thought I was weaker."/_

 

His black hair and high cheekbones- light olive skin-

 

_/"Not weaker," I reached up on my tiptoes and hugged him. "Just...more like me."/_

 

 

Khan.

Khan must have brought him-

 

 

/ _"An empath?" He asked, his eyes like crystal with the lingering tears._

_"I think so. I can help you. Let me you teach you....what my mama taught me..."/_

 

 

But here- now- Joaquin's eyebrows were bushier, he had a scar on his chin-

 

On the projector, I watched his eyes burst open-

And they were jade.

 

Not light copper, like they should be.

 

His eyes were jade-colored.

 

 

Joaquin didn't sit up, but through the projector he watched me.

 

 

**_/"Broken wrist?"/_ **

 

_I looked up sharply, sweeping the room for the new doctor who was coming to poke and prod, bleed and beat-_

 

 

 

" _Liar!_ " I lunged at the captain and slapped him across the face. "You _liar!_ You _lured_ me down here-!"

 

 

_**"A broken wrist is not so bad considering what we usually deal with..."** _

 

 

I was trying to anchor myself, keep my head above the pond of deep, toxic fog.

My physical strength was gone and Kirk caught me in his arms even as I lightly batted at his chest.

 

"You son of a bitch, I'm _pregnant!_ "

 

"Bones, _put him the fuck under!_ Use all you've got-!"

 

"I'm _pregnant_ and you- and you-."

 

 

_**Doctor Singh had a soft voice, uneven and unassuming, but with a lagging, off-tone sound like someone who had had a severe stroke.** _

 

  
"I need an anchor," I gasped for air, caught in the twilight of the setting present and the rising past. "Khan," I sobbed. "I need you- where are you- why am I alone-."

 

 

_**My wrist was shooting electric shocks of pain that sparked through my body.** _

 

 **  
** Kirk took my face in his hands.

 

"Wrenne, I'm here with you. I'm sorry- I thought it was safe- _look at me_."

 

Bright blue eyes. *****

 

How had I never noticed before?

 

"I've been where you are-," Kirk's voice was steady, strong. "-that devouring darkness where everything falls away- I'm there _with you_ , Wrenne. I'm right there with you. I won't let the floor fall away. I won't let Hayagriva seep back in," He held me so tightly I had to fight for deep breaths. "You're here with me, on my ship. I won't let you fall away. You're here with _me_. You're _mine_ , _here,_ and I'll protect you."

 

He was warm but he was soft.

 

Khan was hot and hard, tight.

 

But they were similar somehow.

 

 

I could see it more clearly now as I held Kirk just as tightly as he held me-

So similar.

 

Khan and the captain.

 

They could be brothers.

 

 

 _"Over two years ago,"_ Spock had said. _"They were...less..._ _injections_ _...more of a-_ _transfusion..._ _"_

 

They could be blood brothers.

 

 

**_{ To be continued in Weaving Stage XV: Bleed-Through, Pt.2 }_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and Translation:
> 
> \---Sasza is Hindi for "punishment" or "penalty".
> 
> \---Synthesizer: all the references I used told me "replicator" was a more common term for TNG era, not TOS; ENT uses the word, "resequencer" but that's also before TOS, so I improvised but gave a nod to the TNG era "replicator" =)
> 
> \---Silver-poisoning: technically, argyria. It comes from exposure to colloidal silver. Depending on exposure/severity, skin can be a blue or bluish gray. The "weirdos" Wrenne is referring to are probably not weirdos in our timeline ;D Stan Jones is a man known in politics who praised the use of colloidal silver as a "remedy", but the usage changed the color of his skin. With this being an alternate timeline, I decided to broaden the usage in Wrenne's 21st century. Atch'axah is a much lighter shade than argyria or Jones himself, and unlike the condition, her eyes are white with colored pupils. I only use argyria as a touchstone to help readers more accurately envision her unique and beautiful skin color.
> 
> \---Considering Chekov's younger age in the alternate timeline, I was going to make some other security officer from TOS the "chief" of security, but decided against it. I wanted to give Chekov face time and according to most Star Trek sources (like Memory Alpha), Chekov is listed as "chief of security" is some canon. I figured it makes enough sense in the alternate timeline too, considering what the crew has already been through.
> 
> \---Kirk's blue eyes...debated a lot about whether to use canon color (hazel), but since we are in the alternate timeline, I used those movies for reference and settled on blue.  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Kudos and comments are so very much appreciated! Thank you for being so patient! Over the past year, I've been debating whether to include an original, important idea I've had for "1 in 73" since before the story first came to me. I was afraid this idea would put-off readers or something...but stories are sort of living creatures, and I got to include all its parts. When you try to cut off a part of it, you'll get horrible writer's block! So I'm letting the story flow. Another chapter to come today. 
> 
> And sorry for being late on my deadline (which was August 5th)...never trust a writer's deadlines xD Much love and thanks to you all!


	16. Mini Chapter, Weaving Stage III: The Savage Order, Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 21st century Hayagriva, Khan's strategy to bring Wrenne in IIT unfolds in the aftermath of his attack.

"Broken wrist?"

 

I looked up sharply, sweeping the room for the new doctor who was coming to poke and prod, bleed and beat-

 

"Not so bad considering what we usually deal with..."

 

His was a soft voice, uneven and unassuming, but with a lagging, off-tone sound like someone who had had a severe stroke.

And a Hindi accent tinged with British.

 

It was surprising- after all Khan had told me about "Bapu Singh"- I was finally meeting him, but all I saw was an old man of average height with glasses and a stooped, rather vulnerable stature. *****

 

He could be any old man in a library, engrossed in periodicals except-

Singh's head was shaved in a severe fashion that made me shiver, and when he looked up from the chart he was consulting, I couldn't help but stare.

 

A savage scar, just as Khan had described, trailed from his lower left jaw in a diagonal line across his copper-toned face, drooping his right eyelid, then up to his forehead and across his scalp.

 

"Take a good look," Singh smiled. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

 

I blushed deeply and began to murmur an apology-

 

"Don't be sorry, lado! ***** The Fascinating draws attention- and rightfully so," He spread out his charts on the counter against the wall. "It is important to pay close attention to the Fascinating. The information can prove vital, and the distraction sometimes necessary to motivate survival."

  
/ &$@#/

  
I nearly jumped in my seat on the cold, metal examination table.

 

He was a "wild card"! I had only encountered two others in my life- someone who I just couldn't read correctly. "Wild cards" seemed to give off multiple emotions simultaneously, and it was impossible to separate or label them.

 

Even with the Augment shots in me, I couldn't properly read Dr. Singh.

 

He was scrambled.

 

"Fascinating," Singh said again, running a thumb along his scar. "how human skin grafts over a wound, isn't it? How the body always manages to survive, but each...in a very unique way..."

 

He seemed lost in thought for a good moment before he returned, taking a file in hand.

 

"Now M.A.R.L.A., multiple witnesses- myself included- saw 435-7K _intentionally_ break your wrist?"

 

"Marla"? What the hell- had they _renamed_ me?

 

 

I was huddled and tense with apprehension- waiting for the first needle, scalpel- but somehow I found myself correct him:

 

"My name is Wrenne."

 

 

_"Oh no it isn't," Singh would say with a grimace of a grin. "It's whatever we say it is! And we know what you and Khan have been planning!"_

_Then there'd be gunfire, fear- separation---_

 

No, _no_ , I told myself firmly. That wasn't going to happen.

 

 

   
Singh took my broken joint carefully in his soft hands.

 

"Go ahead, dear, tell me what happened," He gently insisted, inspecting my skin and fingers. "Tell me in your own words."

 

"...I was late getting back to- the Re-Ed Block..." I was ashamed that my voice stuttered with anxiety. "...because-because I was lost- I opened the wrong door-," unexpected tears flooded my vision as I recalled the burst of blinding pain that buckled my knees, the savage look on Khan's face.

 

  
"-Take a quick x-ray of your arm," Singh interrupted as if he were starting in the middle of a different conversation. There was an awkward pause until he shook his head. "Off I went again, didn't I? Beg your pardon, when you get old and dodgy..."  He released my wrist and touched my shoulder, holding my good hand. "You've been through a terrible shock, lado. A right hellish time. You cry all you need to, you're safe here with me. Let me give you something for the pain..."

 

He fumbled with some drawers and came back to me with a syringe.

 

"Here's a pinch," Singh warned before he gave me the shot. "Now, for that x-ray..."

 

After he pulled down a thin, tablet machine that was attached to the ceiling, he carefully arranged my wrist so it was against the tablet's display.

 

"Just a moment, now," He said, walking to the other side of the room where there was a partial wall with a small window. "Stay still."

 

I heard a short buzzing noise.

 

"...And relax," Singh commented, coming back to the examination table.

 

On the way he stopped, shook his head confused, turned in a partial circle before lightly bopping himself on the head and going to the messy desk across from a small window.

 

"Right, right..." Singh clicked around on the computer that was on the desk. "Pull up the image..." He paused. "Mm- yes, of course, now tell me what happened, in your _own_ words, mind you..."

 

 "Um," I felt awkward as I started over. "So- I was lost...I opened the wrong door- it was a closet, so I turned around and-and there was- there he was and he was- mad. I was supposed to be in the Re-Ed block but because I had gotten lost, I was- late and he... reprimanded me."

  
It was settling in me now, maybe because the narcotic pain meds were kicking in.

 

 

I had known the immense damage Khan had suffered-

But in the hallway, that was when I _saw_ the damage, saw it in his eyes and face.

 

I never would have thought I could understand- but by now, after weeks as a captive in this demented country- I had my own damage, a similar damage.

 

So Khan's didn't seem so bizarre.

 

"Reprimand... _quite_   a reprimand," Singh noted, watching the computer screen. "This wrist has been broken twice. And in front of a crowd of witnesses...Fascinating timing..." He chuckled. " Bēṭā, ***** he's always been so passionate...never could deny his loved-ones the grandest expression of protection...But it was necessary, yes, here it is necessary to resort to drastic measures to protect someone..." He trailed off.

  
I felt my body shock with cold.

 

_How_ could he know?

 

/A7@!5H#S3E2/

Dammit!

 

I started to panic- I could feel the harsh beating of my heart in my broken wrist.

 

_Khan_ trusts Singh, he _likes_ Singh, and if _Khan_ trusts him...

I tried to calm myself but it wasn't working. 

 

"You must be very important to him, very important," Singh murmured to himself, nodding his head. "Your wrist broken in two places...different fracture signatures...he broke your wrist two _separate_ times _..._ explains how the second fracture is a compound fracture...A bit of a mess, but nothing I can't fix. Quite mundane, really, compared to the wounds of my usual patients...especially after they return from a raid- excuse me, _mission_." He scoffed.

  
"Saahab, I don't know what you're talking about," I started. "7K-ji...he _hates_ me- he would have bashed my head in if the people hadn't-." *****

 

"Not to worry, lado," Singh came back to where I sat on the examination table, pulling out another syringe. "I'm just some mad old man with a _wild_ imagination," He smiled and gave me a playful wink from his droopy eye. "Now take a deep breath, I'm just going to give you an anti-inflammatory injection..."

 

  
Barely a sharp pinch and the shot was done.

 

Singh had such a gentle touch, even though his hands tended to shake.

 

"I must thank you for encouraging him to find a proper name for himself!" Singh smiled again, beginning in the middle of his own thought. "I called him Hanuman, when he was a child. Of course, I myself was given quite the _'reprimand'_ for that as well..." ***** He gestured toward the long scar on his scalp.

 

He wandered over to his messy desk and pushed it over on its side (not with little effort).

 

Khan had said Singh was eccentric, but I think he was more- damaged.

 

"I-I'm-," I stuttered, confused as he fumbled with the desk.. "I'm sorry for- what happened."

 

Singh waved a hand, as if brushing away my comment.

 

"I placed myself in such a situation, and as such, exposed others to even greater dangers...others, such as yourself," He panted, gathering some of the papers from his desk that were now scattered on the floor. "My _'superior'_ ability bred _'superior'_...ambition...and it spread like the deadliest type of virus..." *****

He shifted through some of the papers before taking one and scrawling on it.

 

"I'm vetoing the IIT application process so they'll transfer you immediately from Re-Education...one of the few benefits of my high station," Singh took the paper and slid it through a scanner, then began typing frantically on the computer. "You'll have to put up with a few more tests, mostly for your psychic abilities- I won't allow _any_ physical-stamina examinations until you're in better shape. I'll keep you here in IIT's Medical Wing until your nutrition and general health is up to my standards... An _immediate_ halt to the Augment blood injections is tricky, but we'll try...And may I say, Wrenne-"

 

Singh's eyes twinkled rather sadly as he looked at me, "-your intelligence and psychic scores are Fascinating. You could do...great, great things. A pity you ended up here."

 

He nodded again, rocking lightly back and forth speaking to himself again, "...A very good match, a very good match- a Fascinating match..."

 

The doctor took a small, iPod-like device from his pocket and pressed a button which beeped loudly.

 

A voice answered in Hindi, "Chikitsak?" *****

 

"Lavanya," He spoke into the device. "M.A.R.L.A. will be needing a cast for her broken wrist. Please bring the casting material and send the immediate-transfer form to the Re-Education Council. She is now in my custody due to a severe fracture, concussion, and osteomyelitis." ***** Singh winked at me again.

 

"Yes, chikitsak."

 

"Thank you, dear."

 

Singh gave a tired sigh before turning to me.

 

"Don't worry now, Wrenne," He carefully placed a hand on my cheek, and I was surprised as he used my real name again. "It worked. Quite a smart scheme, even for Bēṭā...now you are Important to the authorities...no one can make you disappear without grave consequences which means, you will _not_ disappear. Bēṭā and I are behind you- you are in _my_ custody until further notice, and  none of the Councils would override that..." 

 

"Who- who is Bēṭā?"  Singh didn't respond, his head cocked slightly as he dazed off.  "...Doctor?" I suddenly wondered if he was having a stroke when-  

 

"Hm?" He gave his delayed reply.  

 

"Are you okay?" 

 

"Oh," Singh chuckled, embarrassed. "Off I pop! Where were we?" 

 

"Who's Bēṭā?" 

 

"Khan, dear, Khan, do keep up," he frowned in frustration. "Ambitious, that one...more so than the rest, you should note that. Restless, too, though the majority of that will wear off now that he has you. Love soothes like none other."

 

A neat, uniformed Indian woman in a doctor's coat opened the other door of the exam room.

 

"Ah, Lavanya, show M.A.R.L.A. to her room and give her these medications, will you?" Singh gently took my arm and practically handed me over to the other doctor. "Show her how things work, she's coming from Re-Ed... I will see you soon, lado," he directed to me and then Lavanya was walking away.

 

I hurried after her, unable to resist a final, stupefied look over my shoulder at the almighty "Bapu Singh" who Khan praised above anyone else.

 

 

We walked down a small, moonlit hallway decorated lavishly with plants, stain-glass windows, and even cages of colorful birds.

 

"Here you are, Marla-ji," Lavanya opened the door to "my" room-

 

For some reason I was still expecting my usual crowded, concrete cell, but I entered into a soft blue sitting room with a television. The far wall was made entirely of glass and overlooked a beautiful garden filled with different types of animals. A menagerie. 

 

"On the left is your bedroom, there television remotes are on the coffee table just there as well as in the desk in your study on the right. If there are any books that aren't already here, you may request them on your computer. Your bathroom has a bath, a shower, and a sauna. Please do not bathe or use the sauna until we have set and dried your cast. It should only take about twenty minutes. There's a doorbell out here, be sure to answer it, I'll be right back with some nurses and the materials for your cast."

 

I turned around and watched Lavanya leave. She carefully and quietly shut the ornate door.

 

For a long time I stood stupidly for want of loud orders. Eventually I wandered over to one of the couches and sank down, staring at the TV remote on the mahogany coffee table. I finally noticed the piece of paper beside it, marked, " _Jānama_ ".

 

I unfolded the slip and read all that was written there.

 

 

I don't know when the sobbing started.

 

Don't know when I slipped from the couch down to the soft, carpeted floor or how long I laid there.

 

Clinging the paper to my chest and crying so my back complained against the harsh, shaking sobs. 

Pain as if a creature were cracking out of my heart, separating my ribs.

 

On the paper: " _You will never be prisoner again._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes and translation
> 
> \---"Bapu" is the Hindi equivalent of "papa", the type of endearment for someone you are not related to, hence Bapu Singh.
> 
> \---"Lado" is a Hindi endearment similar to "dear" or "little one".
> 
> \---Bēṭā, "son" as an endearment to someone younger yet who is not related to you. English example: "Come here, son", etc. 
> 
> \---"Saahab" is a Hindi term for "boss", "mister", or "master"
> 
> \---"-ji" is an honorific Hindi suffix for someone of a higher social standing than yourself.
> 
> \---Hanuman- from the Hindi myth epic, "Ramayana". He fought for the benevolent god Rama in the war against the demon king Ravana. Hanuman is often interpreted as an avatar of the god Shiva. His mother, Anjana, was a Hindi type of nymph who was cursed to live on earth until she had a son. She prayed for 12 years before her prayers were answered and she gave birth to Hanuman. Is Anjana symbolic of what Singh was put through to create Augments...? ;D
> 
> \---"Superior ability breeds superior ambition", I planned for Singh- the creator of the first Augment- to be the source of this famous line from TOS. I planned this AGES ago and I have been just dying to post it! I thought it would be even more ironic/unique if the quote were actually originally given by the creator of Augments using it to refer to himself. Afterall, don't creators make things in his/her own image? And like how Antoinette's misunderstood, "Let them eat cake" quote, I figured the infamous one about Augments would be similarly misunderstood to an extent, but still overall accurate. Hoped you liked that easter egg =P
> 
> \---Chikitsak, "doctor" in Hindi
> 
> \---osteomyelitis, inflammation of bone or bone marrow, usually due to infection. Singh was exaggerating in order to secure her in his custody.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> First of all, READERS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW:
> 
> Do you enjoy these side chapters that focus solely on the 21st century/Khan or do you find them distracting/boring...? Would you prefer me to stick to the Enterprise? Let me know in the comments! Thanks for all the kudos/support!  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Anyway, some other thoughts... Another side-bar from the 21st century...I was going to include it in the last chapter as something Joaquin makes Wrenne "re-experience" but the "blood brothers" ending seemed really natural, plus Wrenne has a stronger mind, more specifically trained/talented in this area, so Joaquin being able to put her in such a deep trance didn't seem to fit. 
> 
> Ultimately though, I wanted to specify that Khan's /planned/ act of violence was not out of sadism, but rather a clever strategy to secure Wrenne's social position in such a terrible place. Some people have depicted Khan as a "50 Shades of Grey"/domestic abuse type of lover and that is not my interpretation at all. (For personal reasons, I oppose such a thing, let alone depicting it as romantic or ideal.) 
> 
> My interpretation of Khan's character...I worry that I paint him too "gentle" in the story so far, which is why I almost did not post this chapter. What I'm trying to capture are the conflicting opposites in his personality/behavior: the strange, sometimes frightening and savage way he shows his love for people, the pure and passionate love he actually feels; the near simultaneous violence/love, fury/stillness, villain/nobility that are mixed together to create a very unique and fascinating "color". The contrasts are what have always drawn me to Khan and what has made it so very fun as well as INSANELY DIFFICULT to write for such a character. 
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed this =)


	17. Weaving Stage XIV: Bleed-Through, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrenne confronts the man known as Joaquin and Kirk faces an assassination attempt as Khan's hold finally tightens over the Enterprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Sassie-Bone: without your friendship and encouragement, I wouldn't have had the courage to take this story to it's potential! Much love to you, mon amie!
> 
>  
> 
> \---Triggers: strong language, brief violence

_**{ Weaving Stage XIV: Bleed-Through, Pt.2 }** _

 

 

"No wonder," how had I started crying again?

 

Was it the look in Kirk's eyes- the eager sheen that reminded me so much of Khan?

 

Or how the captain was, in that moment, so magically reassuring against all the doubt and fear I had always lived with- such an ability was also much like Khan.

 

_/guilt, guilt, concern, doubt, focus, focus, guilt, doubt, focus, focus/_

 

But Kirk pulsed more like me.

 

"He's out-," Chekov sighed. He had thrown himself inside the cell, over the mental grenade for his captain- practically wrestling a sedated Joaquin so he could block the jade eyes from view.

 

"He's probably dead," McCoy exhaled, a passionate mix of frustration and anxiety.

 

"No," Spock and I accidentally answered simultaneously.

 

"Well how the hell do you know that?" the doctor insisted, his face tired and rather sad as he started waving the beeping device.

 

I looked at Kirk, who had straightened and released me though he still had a tentative hand on my elbow.

 

"Can't you hear it?" I asked him.

 

He paused, concentrating.

 

"Is that-."

"-his heartbeat," I nodded, pulling up my sleeve to dab some sweat from Kirk's forehead. "Before now- have you never noticed?"

 

"What?"

 

"Sounds like that. Soft ones we're not supposed to hear."

 

Blue eyes scanned briefly as he thought-

"No."

 

"What does red do?" I pointed to Joaquin's uniform. "I thought they were guards."

 

"They are also the uniform for the ship's engineers," Spock explained.

 

"Do you know  _this_ engineer?" I asked

 

"Do you?" Kirk countered.

 

"No," I was astounded by how I lied without even thinking- like an automatic and  _convincing_ reflex.

  
"The majority of our engineers were quarantined at the last star base," Spock was watching me with that peculiar, non-chalant expression of his. "They were replaced by the base's Star Fleet engineering guild members."

 

"So you  _don't_ know that one?"

 

"He came with the necessary information, references, and career history."

 

"That doesn't even answer her question!" McCoy rolled his eyes at Spock, who looked back at him-

/ _irritat-/_

 

But then it was cut off and Spock was back to

/ _.../_

 

 

_< If Mr. Joaquin's abilities are advanced as they seem, it is not wise to discuss this here.>_

 

 

I jumped, startled by the gentlest message nudged into my mind.

Still in "attack mode".

 

 

I had no energy to waste in a pathetic attempt to send Spock a mental reply, so I nodded.

 

 

 

\-----

 

 

"So your original engineers are sick somewhere."

   
A large shadow circled the men.

 

"They're  _dead?_ " I guessed.

 

"An inexplicable outbreak of-," Spock began but once again, McCoy interrupted him:

 

"They caught something very rare and very deadly. We're damn lucky to have our Chief Engineer with us at all. Due to this illness's rate of contagion and fatality, it was automatic Star Fleet reg- _laws_ we had to follow and let BWD handle it. More than ten of our engineers died within the first eight hours."

 

"Do you have a-," I wiggled my fingers, searching for the word."-a poofer-- a teleporting-making thing in your room, captain?"

 

"A _'poofer?'_ "

 

"You know, like-," I gestured something disappearing. "- poof! Like in my room in the hospital."

 

"Sick Bay," Spock corrected, smiling at me with a glint of amusement. "She means the synthesizer."

 

"Yeah," Kirk laughed a little at my phrasing.

 

"You don't call anything _that cool_ something boring like a 'synthesizer," I added in my defense, relishing how the laughter from the captain and the doctor lightened the weight of things. "You don't know how to live in the future at all!"

 

There was warmth, like an unexpected warm breeze as the two men laughed again, Spock clearing his throat in what had to be a Vulcan-laugh.

 

 

"Think about what you're doing."

 

 

I frowned, looking around- that voice didn't seem to come from the room-

 

 

_**"Just think before you speak, Wrenne."** _

 

  
"What?" I demanded, suddenly startled by the unfamiliar voice.

 

Kirk and the others from this strange future dribbled away like slow, hot wax-

 

 

And I was in the blue sitting room from Singh's medical block in Hayagriva.

 

The doorbell rang. I didn't move.

 

  
"...Who are you?" I demanded in my go-to-intimidation tone.

 

"Look, I'm asking...no more door-busting like a barbarian. May I come in?"

 

  
I looked down at my hands to see my wedding ring again on my left hand.

When I first woke up to the 23rd century, it wasn't there. Chavez probably stole it before he put me to sleep...

 

In front of me were an array of photos on the coffee table.

 

Khan at our tiny wedding in that old, small town hall.

 

Singh's memorial, with all of Khan's crew.

 

Our first, fumbled selfie as man and wife.

 

Me in the meadow of daisies with my arms thrust up at the sky.

 _"If we could build a house anywhere, I'd put it here!"_ I had laughed.

 

Mam and me on Mount Timpanogos, at Daddy's funeral.  
_"Whenever you're afraid or feel you're alone," Daddy had told me when I had been so little. "just look up at the stars and feel the mountain's wind. That's me. That's your daddy all around you. You'll never be alone."_

 

 

There was a sturdy knock at the door, bringing me back from the mixture of memories, back to the living room.

 

I turned to the huge window and saw the night of the wilderness and its fearlessly bright stars, the shoulder curves of the mountain's trees swaying in the breeze.

  
In Hayagriva, that window had overlooked the menagerie.

 

 

Another knock.

 

 

I stormed up to the door and threw it open.

 

" _No_ , you don't step one _fucking foot_ in here!"

 

The stranger raised his hands and stepped back from the doorway.

 

He looked just like the "Joaquin" I had seen in the cell.

 

"That's fair," he nodded. "I didn't mean to grab you like that, I'm sorry. When you're pumped full of drugs, the mind stumbles and grabs for balance, just like the body. Didn't mean to pull you into anything."

 

"Bull shit!" I spat at him. "And what are you doing to-?!"

 

"What am _I_ doing? I'd look at what _you_ are doing, Wrenne- _Mrs. Singh_ ," he corrected himself.

 

"If _you're_ an engineer and they have access to the synthesizers, then that's why the captain's sick! You've been lacing his cups, bowls, plates- everything! You've been lacing it with the neurotoxin!"

 

He put his hands out and shrugged.

 

"Guilty," He smiled mercilessly before his expression became more somber. "...but think carefully about what _you_ do next, what you say. Don't you want to be with your husband again?"

 

"You're _not_ Joaquin! Joaquin didn't have these kind of skills, he didn't even have blue-green eyes!"

 

"I'm biologically engineered. In such a field, there's never a 'finished product', Little Bird. A lot has happened since you were taken from us."

 

I stepped back from the door, shocked to hear Joaquin's nickname for me.

 

"You know I'm here with Khan," He stepped closer. "We're here to bring you home."

 

"Stop! _Stop!_ Just- just stay where you are!"

 

"I won't come in unless you invite me," Joaquin assured me. "I never would have stumbled around in your mind at all, but the drugs make it harder for me to control. Come with me, Little Bird. Let's sit and talk."

 

"I'm not going anywhere! And you're sure as hell _not_ coming in here-."

 

"Then make a neutral area."

 

"What?"

 

"A place for us to sit outside your mind. You made all of this-," he gestured to the living room, " -just make more."

 

  
I had barely processed what he'd said when the darkness outside the door turned to the field of wabi-sabi daisies behind our first house- Khan and mine.

 

Two large cushions, brightly colored like the ones from the Harem sat among the grass and flowers.

 

"Lovely," he put out his hand in the brotherly way Joaquin used to. "I wished you could have the elevated skills I possess now...you make so much beauty with it..."

 

"If you're really Joaquin," I closed the door behind me, ignoring his hand and moving to the cushions. "Show me what happened after Dr. Singh took me to get my arm looked at."

 

"It's difficult enough to project myself this far," Joaquin flushed with frustration. "I _am_ unconscious."

 

"Then _tell me_. What did you do after Singh took me to his medical block?"

 

"I punched Khan and we fought."

 

  
Any of Khan's crew might know that.

I thought harder.

 

"What did you do when you heard about Dr. Singh's suicide?"

  
Joaquin sighed heavily.

"I told everyone that I went in to say goodbye to him, to the body," he hesitated. "but I really spat on him. Happy to imagine him in hell."

 

  
I covered my mouth and fell into his lap with my arms around him.

 

"Joaquin! I'm sorry- but- what happened to your eyes? How the hell are you able to do- what you did? You were...pulling me into a memory as if it were real!'

 

"Little Bird," he kissed the top of my head. "A lot has happened since Chavez took you."

 

"That's _not_ an answer! What are you doing, giving the neurotoxin to Kirk?" I demanded.

 

"You know Singh originally called that 'neurotoxin', an 'Activator'. Thought it unleashed the potential of Augment blood and the humans injected with it."

 

"And it turned their brains to goo! It's what Bouhler used to kill Noonien and who the hell else he decided to torture to death! That 'Activator' nearly destroyed _me_ \- anyone with Augment blood injected into them. It's worse than a death-sentence."

 

"You know what he would do to get you back safely. And initially, this plan was solely for the luxury of revenge- and to acquire a vessel. We were all shocked when they found you, so we doubled the amount of Activator we had been lacing on all the utensils on the ship. A few even got into their captain's monthly immunity-boosters."

 

" _Why_ didn't Khan tell me when..." I didn't finish because I knew the answer.

 

"Now you know," Joaquin tilted my head up to look into his jade eyes. "so what are you going to do with it?"

 

 

 

I gasped, jolting back to my room in Sick Bay.

 

I had forgotten to ask Joaquin what was next-

 

 

"He was talking with you."

Spock's voice had just the slightest hint of tension.

 

"Wh-what?" I sat up, finding myself in bed.

 

"Mr. Joaquin," Spock was holding my hand. "He was talking with you, trying to enter your mind."

 

"You can tell all that?" I asked nervously, feeling myself suddenly racked with shivering. I was covered in sweat.

 

"I could feel a presence pressing on your mind and you were pushing against it. It felt similar to the presence that gripped you when he momentarily awoke in the solitary unit. Doctor McCoy," he had flipped open his communication device, "come in."

 

"What, oh green-blooded one?"

 

"Wrenne is with us again."

 

"Good- and you were right. Joaquin's brain activity has crashed down to usual, unconscious activity. No longer lit up like a Christmas tree. I'm reading _her_ brain waves....now. She's back to normal, active behavior too."

 

"Kirk here, Spock. McCoy and I are on our way."

  
Spock closed the device.

 

"Was- was I sleeping?"

 

"No," he released my hand and stood up. "Not by traditional definition. Your eyes were open, but it did appear that you entered the sleep stage known as Rapid Eye Movement."

 

"It seems our brainy friend has exhausted himself," Kirk sighed as they both came in.

 

"Even if he were alien," McCoy added, "he wouldn't be able to keep that up forever."

 

"Is he sleeping now?" Spock asked.

 

"Not just sleeping, he's entered a coma. Whatever he was trying to do was so taxing on his body, I can only imagine the damage it could do to a normal human. I'm keeping my third eye on him," the doctor gestured to the thin tablet in his hand as he used his other to wave the beeping wand over me again. "So Wrenne, can you tell me what _you_ experienced? Never seen someone in R.E.M. with eyes open..."

 

"More important," Spock added, "What were you going to say about the synthesizers and the engineers from the star base?"

 

I was shivering so hard my teeth were chattering.

 

"Hold on to your pointed ears, Spock!" McCoy snapped, putting a light, transparent mask over my nose. "Wrenne, look at me, you're entering shock. Joaquin's hypnotist act did a doozy on your whole system. I need you to stay calm and take deep breaths- I just hooked you up to an oxygen tank so you're getting enough air. We'll make sure you and the twins stay safe. Nurse Chapel, bring me the warm blankets, the EN tablet, and the diolphoxyzine injections..."

 

Two blonde women entered the room, one in a blue uniform, the other in red.

 

 

/ _nervous,anxious,tense/_

 

  
I cringed under what should've been an ordinary observation for me.

 

"Sorry again- oh wait, you forgot an injection cartridge!" Helen stood at the foot of my bed, handing something to the nurse.

 

_Helen._

 

 

 _/"Men! Don't get me started. We learn from Machiavelli that men_ cannot _respect, only fear."/_

 

 

Helen, her curly, golden blonde hair pulled back from her face into an uncharacteristically sensible ponytail.

(Was she shorter?)

 

 

_/"So just build up the corpses, rain down the blood until it breaks the dams. Whatever it takes until they fear you."/_

 

 

"Captain, here's your coffee," Helen handed him a steaming mug.

 

She had the same cold, navy eyes that didn't reflect her pretty smile. Eyebrows so blond that you could barely see them.

 

 

_/"WE ARE MANKIND'S NEXT EVOLUTION! LIFE BELONGS TO US AND US ALONE! KILL THE OBSOLETE!"/_

 

 

Somehow she was still a stunning beauty.

 

  
"You didn't get it from any synthesizer?" Kirk specified. "There might be a problem with some of them."

 

"No, captain. Brewed it by hand- it's _much_ easier than I thought it would be."

 

"New cup?"

 

"Yes, captain," her reasonable, girlish voice always swayed everyone.

 

 

Kirk was holding the cup.

 

Now was the time.

 

 

_/"So we doubled the amount of Activator we had been lacing on all the utensils on the ship."/_

 

 

 

 _Aren't you going to say anything?!_ It didn't come from a synthesizer but it still came from _Helen_ -

 

 

"I'm going to give you three shots of diolphoxyzine, it helps the body ward off shock- better safe than sorry. Officer Lauren! Only _medical_ personnel administer injections!" McCoy had turned to Helen, who had the same device in her hand that the doctor was using to give me a shot.

 

"Oh! I thought Nurse Chapel needed me to help..."

 

" _Absolutely_ not with an injection!" Chapel insisted.

 

 

The captain still held his drink.

Things seemed to move slowly as a debate ran on in my head-

 

 _There's a better way_ , I thought to my children, briefly putting my hand over my womb.

A shout wouldn't do- Helen was stronger and faster-

 

I burst out of bed.

 

"Wrenne-?"

 

I knocked the cup out of Kirk's hands and it cracked on the floor, spilling coffee everywhere.

 

"Don't drink that! Don't touch anything _that murdering bitch_ gives you!" I pointed angrily at Helen, even though my hands shook.

 

 

I felt the tension in the room, all the shocked expressions-

 

But Helen only smiled sweetly at me.

 

"Careful, captain, don't slip on the coffee!" She smiled, taking his arm as if to guide him- but instead she threw her arm around his neck, baring his throat where she injected him.

 

_/"A few even got into their captain's monthly immunity-boosters."/_

 

 

"NO!" I screamed.

 

Helen was quick- but so was Spock.

 

A laser shot through the air, cracking loud as a whip as it hit Helen on her right temple. The force threw both her and the captain back against the wall.

 

I looked behind me and Spock was holding some gun-shaped weapon.

 

He fired three more times until Helen's eyes closed and her head fell lax on her chest.

 

My shoulders were still shaking with uncontrollable shivering.

 

I could feel the sweat gathered on my face, my chest. Kirk had managed to survive the neurotoxin this long- not without a grave price. Any next dose could be the fatal tipping point.

 

The nurse leaned me against her and tried to help me back to bed.

 

 

"Is she dead?" I asked.

 

"Wrenne, lay back down-."

 

"Spock got her, he-."

 

"MAKE SURE SHE'S _DEAD!"_ I was hysterical, I could hear it, and I didn't care.

  
"What setting was your phaser on?" Kirk drew his own weapon and aimed it at Helen.

 

"Check him, doctor," I ordered, gesturing at Kirk.

 

"I feel alright," Kirk insisted, though his voice sounded wary. McCoy was already waving the device over him and examining the injection site.

 

"Is she _dead?_ " I demanded.

 

"She's alive, I can hear her heartbeat," the captain answered. "Keep your phaser on her Spock- a small move, stun her again. We'll put her in a solitary cell in the Brig-."

 

"I don't see any change with you, Jim- except for what diolphoxyzine is _supposed_ to do-."

 

"Is there any reaction you are expecting?" Spock asked me. "Any kind at all?"

 

My bones felt fragile against my pounding, pounding heart.

I couldn't bring myself to speak anymore.

 

 

" _Now_ you're silent?" the nurse was aghast.

 

"Look, she doesn't know!" McCoy snapped. "Christine, help Wrenne back to bed, she's in shock. Jim- dammit! Stay still!"

 

"You," Helen laughed groggily. " _You_ are such a coward, M.A.R.L.A.! And it doesn't even-."

 

_CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!_

The laser shot quick, several more times.

 

 

"Overkill, gentlemen."

 

  
Khan stood in front of the door with his phaser in his hand. His hair was down, still long and silver.

 

"Milton- what are you doing out of the Brig?" *****

 

 _"_ _My beloved_ ," Khan opened his arms and I stumbled forward.

 

"What did you do?" I sobbed. "Activator? The _neurotoxin_ _?_ You _promised me-_ th-that you _burned_ away the formula- all of the chemicals- and the rest of Singh's research! You _swore!_ " I smacked him hard across the face and instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry," I cried, gently placing a hand where a red slap mark still showed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

 

  
Five others- it looked like Lopez, Sun Tzu, Joachim, Virgil, and Dante- came and spread out into the room.

 

 

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Khan brushed away my tears with his thumb, taking my cheek in his large hand and kissing me.

Hard and passionate.

 

Victorious.

 

But he held me like I was going to break.

Or maybe he thought _he_ might break.

 

I felt a tremble run from his lips down to his hands, probably through his soul.

 

"Are you okay?" I asked in a tight sob. "Are you...?"

 

"Alive again, at last," He smiled, his face lightly cracking and tears dropped freely down his cheeks.

 

He was watching me with disbelief, like I only existed in a half-forgotten dream- and he was desperate to believe.

 

I held onto him, briefly cradling his head against my breast- the way he looked at me made me feel as if I may waft away as easily as a puff of smoke. He swept his arms around me again, so tightly this time. I let my nails dig into his skin as I wrapped myself in him, in his scent.

For a moment it felt as if we would melt into each other.

 

 

But I had to open my eyes.

 

 

"Don't kill them," I wasn't asking or begging. I was demanding. "Don't kill them, don't. It's not their fault, it's not the crew's. It's Chavez's fault we were ever separated." He allowed me to take the phaser from his hand.

 

"Doctor, you will tend to my wife and then you will see to Joaquin."

 

 

McCoy snorted incredulously, exchanging a glance with Spock and Kirk.

 

 

"Oh don't bother looking to your captain. My wife is right. Helen switched the shot cartridges when she ran into your nurse outside-," I heard Chapel gasp, throwing a hand over her mouth. "Kirk is quite poisoned but there is nothing any of you can do. He is already worse than dead."

 

"No- Khan, no!" I started but-

 

" _Khan?_ " Kirk was quick to use his weapon.

 

 

CRACKCRACK!CRACK!

 

Nearly simultaneous, Spock and Kirk shot lasers at Khan's chest but Virgil easily intercepted both- he fell to the ground, but managed to rise up on his knees.

 

Dante fired, hitting the hand Kirk was using for his phaser. His weapon popped into the air, landing useless on the floor. Lopez kicked the captain's weapon into the far corner of the room- _CRACK!CRACK-_ the nurse screamed and Spock collapsed on the floor.

  
"That was a 'stun' setting, beloved," Khan assured me, then to Lopez: "Take him to Joaquin's cell. Bring Joaquin up here, in the room next to Wrenne's. The good doctor will see he recovers."

 

"If you think I'm just going to stand here while you cart him off-!" Kirk shouted, stepping forward. Virgil was still shaking off the phaser shot, but the rest of Khan's men aimed their weapons, and the lights on top of the phasers changed from yellow to red.

 

Red never meant anything good.

 

"Don't be rash, captain," Khan smiled in mock pity, his voice and breath hissing out like the rattle of a shed snake's skin- it made me shudder. "What little sanity you still had is now gone with the shot you were just given. You see, in order for _my_ people to better wage the wars of _your_ people, they needed us to live longer. They needed certain skills and muscles ready before even our childhoods were over. So came about a failed serum that reacts uniquely to _our_ blood, and it turned out to be quite deadly- more of a _neurotoxin_. It was lethal to 97% of human subjects injected with Augment blood, and these subjects had so very much less than a _transfusion_ of Augment blood running in their veins, so much less of this neurotoxin already in their systems."

 

" _Why?!"_ I demanded. "Khan, why like _this?_ " I raised my hand to- I don't know what- but Khan caught my wrist rather deftly in his hand.

 

"Beloved _,_ do _not_ waste your strength. Lie back down, the captain and I will negotiate the terms of his surrender outside."

  
"That's not how this is _done!_ " I scoffed back at him. "We do things _together!_ "

 

Sun Tzu had taken Kirk's arms and was holding them tightly behind his back.

 

  
"Listen to me, Wrenne," Khan sighed. "you aren't well. Lie back down and we will _both_ wait to negotiate surrender when you can be there, when you are _not_ in shock. But now? _Now_ you will rest, after all I have come through," he spoke despite the fresh tears in his eyes, placing a hand on my belly, "and all I have done for you, for our family: _lie back down._ "

 

Reluctantly I nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. He squeezed back.

 

"When I come back, we'll get you into a different room," Khan then motioned for Joachim, "You and Dante stay here. You cuff Helen, I'll send Lao and Beth to take her to the Brig so she can calm herself without compromising us in the process.  Joachim..."

 

Joachim nodded in response. Apparently his directions didn't even need mentioning.

 

"Take him outside," Khan gestured and Kirk was led out of the room.

 

The captain watched me all the way out the door.

 

 

I lingered anxiously.

 

"How long?" I insisted.

 

"Lie down."

 

"How _long_ will you be gone? What are you doing with Kirk?"

 

"I'm not leaving until you lie down."

 

" _What_ are you doing with him?"

 

"My _stubborn_ beloved, I will _tell_ you once you've laid down!"

 

Joachim put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I didn't bother looking up at him. What I was feeling off of Khan was erratic, abstract- but my own feelings were so loud, I could barely sense anything over them.

 

  
"I am _in_ bed," I announced as I leaned back against my pillow.

 

"Will you stay there?" Khan was pulled very taut, tense, that I could interpret.

 

"Yes," I promised. "Tell me what you are going to do with the captain."

 

"I'm taking Kirk to another solitary unit in the Brig," Khan answered.

 

"Don't kill him."

 

"Let's not argue in front of the hostages, dear," He quipped. "Nurse, if you'd kindly follow Lopez, he will take you to your quarters."

 

Chapel glared despite her watering eyes, but McCoy nudged her, "Go on, Christine. We'll get out of this."

 

"Relax," Khan urged me, coming to my bedside. "The difficult part is over. The loneliness is over now." He gave me a light kiss before he, along with Chapel, Lopez, and an unconscious Spock left the room.

 

Dante went to setting two pairs of heavy, metal handcuffs over Helen's wrists.

 

 

"Nice and easy, Doc. All your medical equipment has been through our hands. Now it will go _directly_ past us and we've memorized all of your medical data," Joachim warned him. "We've lived in this world longer than you think. You can try to kill yourself with Tylenol but other than that, there's nothing you can do."

 

Dante grumbled something, disagreeing or disapproving.

 

" _No one_ is dying!" I yelled.

 

"Still having trouble taking jokes," Joachim lightly rubbed my back. "Try to relax. We're _all_ back together now. I bet that guy doesn't even know what Tylenol was."

 

"APAP," McCoy easily recited. N-acetyl-para-aminophenol, an ancient analgesic and antipyretic widely used from the 19th century until the 21st. ***** I _am_ a damn doctor... Now I'm just getting the _tricorder_ out of my pocket," He slowly took out the beeping wand.

 

"...You've already had a run-in with Khan..." I thought aloud, nearly chewing my lip raw.

  
"You could call it that," McCoy mumbled tensely. 

 

"Which one of you does he hate most?"

 

"Kirk," Joachim- staying very true to himself- answered a question not even directed to him.

 

The doctor shook his head, "Spock. Now _you_ -," he pointed the tricorder at Joachim. "-either sit down or stand over there, I need to get to my fucking patient!"

 

 

**_{ To be continued in Weaving Stage XVI: Identity Crisis }_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Notes:
> 
> \---Milton in the Brig; what was Khan doing in the Brig in the first place? Explanation to come...
> 
> \---Tylenol is the North American brand of this chemical (APAP), internationally it is known as paracetamol or acetaminophen. Until I looked up the info for this chapter, I thought Tylenol was a much older drug- but apparently it wasn't discovered until 1877!  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> The next chapter will be posted in about two weeks, just fine-tuning things. I'm changing states right now, so I'm in the middle of moving. Hope none of this seemed cheesy, it was a hell of a lot of fun to FINALLY write this scene and I wanted it to be a little unconventional. Thanks as always for the kudos and comments! I appreciate each one!! 
> 
> Don't worry, things in the story aren't winding down- they're winding up! =D


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